Right now our nation is being twisted and torn by immense pressures of pain, hurt, frustration, and fear. We've all been impacted heavily by the pandemic and now we are grieving over the murder of George Floyd. It seems like everyone from every sphere has something to say, and I've held back from adding my voice to the cacophony because I didn't want to add to the noise needlessly. And while I still don't think that my voice will have any bearing on the grand scale dialogue, my heart has felt a heavy burden to take this time to explore and rediscover an attitude of honor. In the midst of so many different opinions swirling back and forth, it's so important that we learn how to honor the voices and the experiences of those who have lived through things we ourselves haven't.
Honor is a concept I think most people are familiar with in some way, but it's also a little too ambiguous of a word in English to be commonly referenced. We know the Bible says to honor our father and mother (Exodus 20:12), and that this is the first command that comes with a promise - "that it will go well with you in the land" - so clearly this is significant and important to God, but who on average could give a clear answer of what that commandment means practically in our own lives? In English honor can mean anything from showing respect or adhering to a conventional standard of what is right, to paying a bill or defending a lady's chastity. The word honor is used in so many different contexts, yet because it is used so widely I worry that it has begun to lose impact. Our western culture's concept of honor has been progressively watered down and under-valued over the years, and in its place I see a value for individualism and personal pride growing stronger and stronger. I've heard some people refer to shame as the opposite of honor, but in many ways I see pride as a much bigger opponent. Shame comes from an internal sense of failure to expectations placed on us either by ourselves or by our community. And whether or not that sense of failure is accurately assessed, it is inherently based on a sense of achievement or accomplishment (aka works). But honor should never be based on works, it is inherent and should be shown universally. The Bible tells us to honor our father and mother, period. Not to honor them only if we think they did a good job or to honor the ones who "succeeded," but to honor them simply because they are our parents. Honor is not earned, nor is it even a form of agreement or approval. And in many ways it actually says a lot more about the one showing honor than the one receiving it. A person who shows honor must first set aside their own personal pride and see outside of their own myopic world in order to recognize the worth of another. It requires humility and the laying down of that pride we've grown up treasuring so much. While American culture teaches us to fight for our own voice to be heard, a culture of honor makes room for the voices of the marginalized to be heard. We can't effectively lift someone else up if we are actively trying to make our own voice the loudest. A person of honor uses their position and influence to make room for those less strong than them rather than trying to gain more strength for themselves. A person of honor also recognizes where they still have a lack of understanding and seeks out those who have gone before them. And in many ways it is more honorable to be the one who recognizes where honor is due rather than being one who demands it for themselves. I heard once that a teacher who blows his own horn has an audience of one, and I think it's so true that as soon as we desire to be recognized for our own worth or wisdom before we desire to recognize that of another, we become a clanging gong no one wants to listen to no matter how right we may be. To honor someone is to see them and to recognize their value. Whether or not we always have the right words to articulate it, I think a common feeling amongst any marginalized group is that we feel honored when we are seen and recognized. Right now our country's awareness of racial sensitivity has been turned up 1000%, and in the midst of all the conversations I've been hearing, there is a common heart cry and desire to been seen and heard. People feel honored when their worth is acknowledged and when they are asked for their perspective, or when they see someone they identify with being given an opportunity to talk about their shared experience. People feel honored when they are treated fairly and not discriminated against because of something they can't control. Across the board whether it's a matter of ethnicity, gender, age, religion, education, etc there are so many points of unspoken preference that get shown everyday, and where one person is being preferred, another is being quietly discriminated against. And there are few things as subtly yet deeply painful as being overlooked, particularly in situations where your opinion really does matter. Failing to recognize someone's authority on a subject is one of the most accidentally dishonoring things I have ever seen, and while it's rarely done maliciously that still makes it anything but OK. Let's learn to love our brothers and sisters by showing honor to them - not as white or black or young or old, but as wonderfully created human beings with hearts and minds of their own. Let's honor people as perfect creations who have lived and experienced things we ourselves haven't. And even if we think we know what they've been through or that our stories aren't so different, let's still ask them what they think rather than making an assumption. The Hebrew word for honor in the Bible is "kavod," which is literally translated as "to add weight." We add weight to something by showing it honor and recognizing its significance. We show a teacher honor by listening intently and taking their words seriously. We show elders honor by taking the time to ask them questions and listen to their stories. We show a neighbor honor by respecting the boundaries they have set, even if it's something as mundane as not playing loud music after 8pm because that's when they put their kids to bed. We show a friend honor by letting them know how much we value the experiences we've shared together. We can even show an opponent honor by listening to their words and waiting patiently for our turn to respond, regardless of how different our own opinions might be. Showing honor is an extension of human decency and dignity, something that we all desire to receive regardless of who we are or how society perceives us. Jesus lived a life of honor even while He was stirring the pot and challenging the constructs of society, so likewise we have no excuse not to also love by honoring and preferring one another. I decided to name this post after Romans 12:9-10 because I feel like it sums this thought up perfectly: "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves." The ESV even phrases it as "Outdo one another in showing honor." I love that! Let's outdo one another in taking the low road like Jesus did. Let's see who can be the first to raise up the one who is hurting or who has been overlooked and forgotten. Let's be the first to ask how we can help rather than to think we deserve to be helped. This is as much a conviction for my own heart as it is an encouragement I want to pass on, and that is why I have resolved to always take more time to learn from others and ask to hear their stories than I care to tell my own.
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Wow! What a long and overwhelming month it's been. COVID-19 has swept across the world and utterly changed every idea I had of what this year was going to look like. I've had to let some dreams die and others be postponed. I've had to say goodbye to dear friends, and surprisingly gotten to make some new friends as well through that process. It seems like every day has brought new developments and greater challenges than the one before it. I came into this season for some much needed rest, but I had no idea how hard I would have to fight for it.
Just a couple weeks ago, our base was actively shutting down and we all had to find other places to go with just a couple day's notice. The same morning that announcement was made, I had woken up with a sharp pain in my throat. I went into self isolation in my room, notified our team nurse, and waited to see what would happen. I prayed a lot about what to do and I talked with my family back at home, and it was clear that going back to California wasn't going to work out very easily. I spent that day oscillating between serenity and total anxiety. On one hand, I know that God is my protector and provider and that He would meet me in the middle of my hard situation. On the other hand, I wasn't able to see any easy solution before me, and I was already feeling pretty sick. But thankfully I'd already been self isolating on base for over a week, and I knew the chances of me having contracted CV19 were extremely low. Even though I was stuck in my 9'x9' room with literally nothing else I could do, I still found it essentially impossible to rest. I knew I had to go somewhere, but I didn't know where. I also didn't know if I would be permitted to fly either, which posed the potential that I would have to find a local hotel to live in for the upcoming month of lockdown - an expense I certainly didn't have the budget for. Finally that afternoon we spoke with the base doctor and he confirmed my suspicion: I didn't have coronavirus, it was only strep throat. Never in my life did I expect to be so happy to have strep!! I was prescribed some antibiotics and cleared to travel, which took care of one half of my big problem. The other remained: where to go. Finally after a long and laborious day of praying for a miracle, it finally arrived right before I went to bed: my friends who live here on the island gave me a call and invited me to stay with them for as long as I needed to. A whole day of waiting on God to come through, and at the last moment He did in the very best way possible. I would get to save the expense of a plane ticket, not have to go to any hotels, and even have friends to stay with so I wouldn't have to be alone! That day has easily found itself in the list of the 10 most stressful days of my life, and yet as I got ready for bed that night I was struck by how absolutely grateful I was and how unique of a situation I was in. Yes, the day totally sucked and did some major damage to my adrenal recovery, but it also gave me the gift of so many things to be thankful for. I was thankful to have strep rather than something much more serious; thankful for the many people back home who had tried to help me even though they weren't able to; thankful for my friends on base who kept checking up on me and bringing me meals even though they had just as many answers to sort out as I did; and very thankful to be given a place to stay with my Italy team leaders. Everything had ended up exactly the way it needed to, even though it was the last solution I'd ever expected or would have been looking for. Sometimes walking with God is like that. I can trust that He sees the bigger picture and that He knows how everything is going to play out. Sometimes He even gives me a heads up, but He's still in control even if He doesn't. And even though the enemy would like to make me feel like a failure for being stressed by the not knowing, I think God has a huge amount of grace for that too. He knows my heart, and He knows that I just want to do right by Him and by my community. The pressure to make the right choice may way more heavily at times than it should, but it comes from a core motivation of love, honor, and respect. All things that reflect Him and show the work He is doing in my heart. So even though I'm not perfect and I don't have full control over my body's reactions to stress, I know that He is blessed by my heart's desire to do the right thing and take the next right step forward. In the end, we're all hot messes who manage to make a series of mistakes amidst our victories, and yet God uses us in whatever state we're in. He's not looking for perfect servants or super soldiers, just willing and humble hearts that will trust Him right up to (and sometimes past) the point of no return. At the end of the day, no matter what else I have or haven't accomplished, that's all I care to be known for. This last week was a unique challenge for me that I’ve never had to deal with in all the years that I’ve done missions - I got sick. Like good-and-proper sick. I’ve dealt with a couple sniffles here and there before, but nothing like full-blown bronchitis in the heat and humidity of Hawaii. I’m convinced there is nothing in this world that could have possibly prepared me for being cooped up in a stuffy, air-conditionless dorm room for 12+ days straight while struggling to breathe.
There is something uniquely miserable about having a fever and chills on a rickety top bunk when all you want in the world is to snuggle up on your own couch back home. Homesickness got a whole new definition for me once I became completely unable to function or help myself, and I realized that my mama wasn’t here to help take care of me either. Beyond feeling miserable and constantly struggling to breathe, being truly sick also came as a massive hit to the pride of my self-sufficiency. It takes a lot of humility to ask brand new friends for help when you’re so used to being able to take care of yourself and others. And it also takes a lot of emotional fortitude and optimism to stay positive even after having to say “no, I’m still not feeling any better” for the fifteenth time each day. Yet rather than letting my physical weakness and literally suffocating inabilities twist my perspective on my current situation, I chose to be thankful that so many people here do care about me and have been checking in to see how I’m doing. And even when I wished I could give them better news, I could still give them a genuine smile in knowing that I am blessed and could be in so much worse of a place than this. I know God has brought me to this place in this time for a reason, and not even a freaky viral infection is going to steal God’s glory. I have been so incredibly blessed by the friends I’ve made here and how genuinely they care about my wellbeing. My heart is so full of God’s peace in knowing that I’m loved and cared for, and that He can use me to love and encourage others even from the confines of my sickbed if that’s what He so chooses. My physical limitations are nothing to God, and He can and will use everything for the building of His kingdom. I have learned greater depths of resting into my own weakness so that I can lean on His strength to get me through. I have also learned how much He can do in the middle of my circumstances no matter what they may look like. I don’t need to be the one taking care of myself or anyone else because my life is already in His hands. He is the author, definer, and defender of my life, and I can happily lean into Him to provide for my wellbeing in every minute of every day. Those are things I already knew cognitively, and now know on a much more visceral level of literally trusting God for the strength for each next breath. Now I’m on the path to recovery and taking all of the right expectorants and antibiotics the clinic doctors have prescribed for me. I’m noticing small but steady improvements in my energy and strength every day since starting this regimen on Friday, and I’m hoping that I can return to the classroom in a day or two. But even if this recovery isn’t quick and I have to spend yet another week resting in a stuffy dim room, I’m choosing to be thankful for the many blessings around me and for the opportunity to learn more about trusting God in my day to day. One of the most iconic weeks in DTS is Father Heart of God week, and it’s always one of my favorites! It’s so essential to have a deep understanding of God’s heart as a father because the depth of any relationship will always depend on how well we truly know someone. To have a real relationship with God, we have to take the time to get to know Him personally.
Everyone has some idea of who they think God is, and that idea is usually based on the constructs of their own earthly parents or authority figures. We learn from the authorities in our lives, and we often project the same dynamics we have with them onto God too, but those models will always be flawed to at least some degree no matter how healthy they are. And unfortunately most of us have had models that were much less than healthy, which means that they are that much farther from the truth. I love Father Heart week because no matter how good or bad anyone’s earthly dad was, there is always something more to be learned about God’s heart as a father. His goodness transcends any model we could ever find here on earth. Abba God is the very definition of love itself - patient, kind, gentle, and generous. He is always present and always wants to be in relationship with us for no reason other than because we are His children. Even when we are actively screwing up, He never gives up on us. He loves to see us grow and thrive in our own unique ways, and He loves to give us good gifts that bring life and joy to us and those around us. When we walk with Him, we get to have Him encourage and coach us through all of life’s hardships. He will never quit on us or leave us hanging. He truly is THE good father! Last week we had the wonderful Christopher Tempero teach on this subject, and it was so cool to get to see him in action. Chris is the leader of the Italy team I’m committed to, and this was the first time I got to hear him teach on anything. After being sent off with tons of love from my family and friends, I’m now happily settling in to the YWAM Ships base in Kona, HI. I’ve been here for a few weeks now and they’ve kept me busy, which has been a wonderful way to get integrated with the group right off the bat! It’s interesting being here because this is the first time in 8 years that I’ve worked with YWAM at a base other that the primary UofN campus. We are still on the same island and in the same town, but about a 25 minute walk away from the campus I have long considered my second home.
Sadly I missed the first two weeks of DTS, but I’ve gotten to jump in on the rest of the classes since then and they’ve been fantastic so I thought I’d go back and summarize the highlights. For “Freedom Week,” we had a local missionary named Alissa come in and spend the week walking our class through the tools to walk in a lifestyle of freedom. Our schedule called it freedom week, but it was really all about identity. She covered the importance of walking in forgiveness, tools to break off the lies of the enemy, and strategies to hold onto your identity in Christ even when the enemy does everything he can to drag you back down into old mindsets. When we walk in bitterness and unforgiveness because of injustices that others have done to us or our families, we only continue to give them power to hurt us long afterwards. To hold onto bitterness is “like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies” - it will eat you from the inside out. To walk in unforgiveness is to sit in judgement of that other person rather that giving that responsibility back to God - the ultimate judge over all of us. At the end of everything, “we have all sinned and fallen short of the grace of God” (Romans 3:23). We have all been forgiven by God, and we insult that gift by refusing to extend it to a fellow sinner. (See also Matthew 6:14 and Matthew 18:21-35) There are many ways that the lies and traps of the enemy can come to hold us down, but they all separate us from living in the fullness of God’s goodness. Those lies will find any opportunity to take root in us, whether we knowingly come into agreement with them or simply leave an empty space in which they can grow. And as long as we are believing something false about our own selves or about the world around us, our eyes will be closed to the truth that opposes them. For example, when I used to believe that I was a nuisance, I couldn’t believe that anyone would want me around no matter how untrue that was. We can’t accept the beautiful truth of our value in Christ until we break away from the lies that the enemy has strategically placed around our lives. And he will always very predictably attack those things that are in fact your strongest traits or areas of potential. It is always the person with the wisest counsel who comes to believe that they don’t have anything to say, and it’s the people with the softest and most nurturing hearts that can be tricked into believing that they are toxic or harmful to the people they love. Those strengths that God has designed us to operate in are always going to be the first things the enemy tries to cut down and diminish, and that’s why it’s so critical to have God be the only one who defines our worth and our identity! One of the most powerful moments in class this week happened when we corporately came into agreement to renounce the lies of the enemy over our lives. One by one, we took turns publicly declaring “I break off the lie that...” and then the rest of the class would echo that declaration. This was so cool because it allowed us to stand in support of each other as well as recognize that we all get tricked into believing the same predictable lies. It gave courage for those who were the most afraid among us to hear others renouncing the very things they also needed to renounce. There was so much freedom and breakthrough in our class that day!! The only day that was more impactful was the one in which we replaced those lies with godly truths. We took all of the lies we had broken off the day before and asked Holy Spirit to tell us what God’s truth was instead. There was so much breakthrough and victory in the room, and it was so powerful to see our students standing in support and agreement with each other! We can usually see the truth over others’ identities even when our own identities are hard for us to grasp. Standing together in agreement of the truth is such a powerful way to feel the love of the body of Christ, especially in those moments when we are walking out of the lies of the enemy. I love seeing that breakthrough for our students and to see the transformation in each of them since them!! Please pardon my intentionally sarcastic title. While I actually have learned over the years how to pack quickly and relatively lightly, it's still never what I would call easy. Packing is a series of choices, and doing it well requires a surprisingly high degree of self-awareness and anticipation. What will the weather be like? How easy will it be for me to do laundry? How many outfits can I make using the same three t-shirts? Are these old jeans that I love too worn out to survive the trip? For me, one of the hardest parts is saying goodbye to the things that don't make the cut. Packing for a short trip is easy because I know everything else will still be waiting for me when I get back. Packing to move is significantly harder because I know there's no point in putting old clothes into long term storage even if they do hold nostalgic memories. If they don't fit just right and go with the other things I'm keeping, sometimes even some old classics find themselves on the chopping block. My sister Elora is undoubtedly the best assistant I could possibly have by my side for this process. She is unsentimental and cut-throat when it comes to cleaning the closet, so she's the first person I conscripted to help me sort through everything. She's also terrifyingly honest, which I value even though it requires some serious humility on my part. First, she pulled everything out of my closet and sorted them into 3 piles: probably keepers, probably not keepers, and keep only if they can be made into multiple outfits. Then it was time for me to meticulously try each item on to see what condition they were in and if they still really did fit me. Sometimes we disagreed about what still looked good or not, but for the most part we were on the same page about what styles were or weren't flattering.
The maybe's are sitting in their own pile and will either come with me if I have the room in my suitcase or stay here with Elora to be enjoyed on the home front.
All in all, I'm now down by a few bags worth of clothes and it's actually super nice to not have such a crowded closet anymore! Options are nice, but too much clutter just made me forget what I had in the first place. I ended up wearing less than half of my available wardrobe simply because I didn't want to go through the process of closet-diving to see what I had in there. Now I know I only have a few options, but I like all of them and would be happy to throw any of them on in the morning. It's a cleaner, simpler feeling that I really enjoy. I wish I had done it a long time ago! Now I'm ready to take the plunge into a new adventure with way less baggage to trek around with me - woohoo!! The life I’ve been given to live is so beautiful!! Here at the beginning of my adult life I’m already collecting tools to help me heal from past wounds so I don’t have to carry their weight around with me forever. I’m being given the opportunity to grow through hard experiences so I know my true inner strength and resiliency. I’m being given space to process, grieve, and reconcile with myself as needed and at nobody’s pace but my own. I’ve been given more time to transition and prepare than I ever would have had the courage to ask for on my own. I’m surrounded by an amazing group I call family, and that family has just increased by one! The birth of my honorary niece today is such an utter joy that makes this already sweet day one of the absolute sweetest and one I will remember for years and years to come!!
God is so good, and His hand is truly upon my life for good and not for harm. I can even see His hand in places where I’ve been wronged. I was mistreated and taken advantage of by an authority I felt trapped under, but that doesn’t mean God was any less in that experience with me. I know He led me to that place and that position for a reason, and that He knew from the very beginning what would eventually take place. His covering over me doesn’t make what they did acceptable, but it does give me peace in knowing that those sins against me are not my responsibility to judge, but His. My concept of justice and ability to dole it out is flawed and insufficient, but His is perfect. While I may not currently have the satisfaction of reaping the full rewards of my labor, I can have satisfaction in knowing that God is my ultimate provider. I have everything I currently need, and trust that He will continue to provide for my needs wherever We go. That is what it means for me to “work with all of my heart as if unto Jesus, not to earthly masters” (Colossians 3:23). And I have consolation in being wronged because when we stand before the judgement throne, I know He will not forget about me or my attackers. We will each be held responsible for our own choices, actions, and responses - no one else’s. I can only seek to respond to injustice in a righteous manner on my own part, not to seek justice for myself or anyone else outside of His plan to administer it. If that justice is to be served here on earth, I will gladly welcome and partner with it. If not, there’s no use in me carrying those wrongs to my grave because I know they’re in His book already. I have been given countless opportunities to learn and grow from my own mistakes, and so have others. I can only hope for their sakes that they choose repentance and growth so they can receive forgiveness and learn to help others rather that hurting them. That’s what I’m trying to do, and it’s such a more beautiful and rewarding way to live! And no matter what they choose, I have peace in knowing it’s not my job to the be anyone’s cosmic accountant - keeping track of rights and wrongs as I see them. I’m happy to pass that role along to the only One who is qualified and capable of holding such a responsibility. What a relief!! The holidays are upon us! There's a fire in the fireplace, smells of turkey and stuffing wafting from the kitchen, and in the immortal words of Bing Crosby "I've got plenty to be thankful for!"
When I was a kid, I used to think it was such a drag when my mom forced us to go one by one around the table to say what we were thankful for. Now that I'm getting older and I'm preparing to start a new life season in YWAM, I'm realizing how much I really am thankful for the little things. I'm thankful for the sunshine and the rain; for the beauty of the world around me. I'm thankful for the eyes God has given me to appreciate those little things that catch my attention. I'm also thankful for the perseverance He's given me to chase after the things that matter most to me. I'm even more thankful for the unique relationship I have with my sisters and with my amazing family. I'm thankful for the people who make my life so special and who have stayed by my side through all of life's ups and downs. I'm thankful that I have so many homes where I feel safe to be vulnerable as myself. I'm thankful for the fun times I've shared with the people I love, and I'm even thankful for the things that have challenged me in these last few months. Not every situation has been easy or pleasant, but they have definitely taught me a lot. Growth is something that happens the fastest under extreme pressure, and is rarely comfortable. But without growth, life would become stagnant and boring. Without challenges to face, I wouldn't know what I'm really capable of. Overcoming hard times takes a lot more strength and patience than I naturally have in myself, but I've always been met with an abundance of grace to take them on each step at a time. God has always been my strength and brought the right people into my life to encourage and support me. I have thoroughly learned that I can't always take care of myself, but also that I don't necessarily have to. All of these things could be hard enough to distract me from my thankfulness, or they could become the fuel for it. The same circumstance can come in many different flavors depending on what perspective you use to interpret it. Pain can as easily cause bitterness as it can accent sweetness - it's a potent seasoning either way, but it's up to us to decide how we're going to use it. Instead of letting my pain be an excuse to sink into self pity or self doubt, I can harness it to motivate me about my next steps. I can use it as the backdrop for the hope of a new day, and allow it to give greater meaning to the things I take away from it. Even the sting of loss and betrayal can be used as tools to see all the good that God has given me. Losing something doesn't hurt if it wasn't precious in the first place, and I would rather be thankful for having had it in the first place than angry that it was taken away from me. And betrayal stings the worst of all, but even that makes the loyalty of true friends shine brighter than ever. I am never truly alone, never truly forgotten, and never truly without hope. There is always a silver lining somewhere deep inside the rain cloud, and I am most thankful of all that God gives me eyes to look for it wherever it is hidden. The troubles of this world won't leave us alone until this age is over, but God has given us a peace and resilience through His Holy Spirit that is strong enough to trump anything else this world has to offer. That is the greatest fruit of our renewed lives with Him and the greatest gift we could ever ask for! And that is the joy I wish for each of you on this beautiful Thanksgiving Day! How do I begin to share about my evacuation experience?... It was utterly traumatic, and yet felt so strangely familiar and run-of-the-mill, like any other Tuesday would have. But of course it was a Saturday not a Tuesday, and it was anything but ordinary.
With less than 24 hours notice, my family and I had to analyze every material belonging we had and prioritize between the myriad of items that make up our "lives." We all agree that while 24 hours sounds short, it was actually far too long and we would have done even better with half the time. We only know this so definitively because we've had to do it before in a much smaller fraction of the time. By now it seems we are becoming pros at the pack-and-dash method of evacuation. In the face of sudden disaster and impending doom, making rational decisions becomes almost completely impossible and frankly not entirely important either. What's far more important than rational decisions are instinctual ones. If given the choice, I really should pack the comfy T-shirt with holes in it that my best friend gave me in high school rather than one of the fancy work blouses I got from Macy's. Why? Work clothes can be replaced; memories can't. And the chances of me sitting in a client meeting in the days following a fiery eruption are slim to none anyways. To provide context and a bit of backstory for anyone who isn't already familiar, I live in Santa Rosa, CA and we experienced a tragic wildfire in 2017 that burned large portions of ours and the neighboring counties, and decimated over 5,000 homes - thankfully not ours, even though by all rights it should have. We woke up at 2am to glowing hills on the horizon, and in less than a few short hours we began watching our neighbor's rooftops begin catching fire. Pushed by 60+ mph winds, the flames rushed over the hills, through the canyons, and into town with a speed none of could have ever anticipated or prepared for, even if we had known it was coming. Just last week we got to relive some of that trauma again during the Kincade fire in the Northern part of our county, the part that got missed last time. As I said, this time we had a lot more notice and were much more prepared. Thankfully far less people were hurt by this year's fire, even though twice as much land was burned and the winds reached even higher and more dangerous speeds than before. Huge portions of town were evacuated as a precaution, and over 200,000 of us all got to relive that experience all over again. Even though the threat has now passed and we can get back to our "regular lives," the effects linger in many of us as we process what just happened and how it affects our daily lives. One of the biggest things that struck me as we left our home a second time was an awareness of just how much we were leaving behind. Mostly useful, memorable, cute stuff - and yet still just stuff none the less. Aside from that handful of memories that truly can't be replaced, we were faced with the nearly impossible task of choosing to either save trivial belongings simply because we could, or to pack on the lighter and leaner side for the sake of speed and ease of travel. I definitely can't say that my bag was lean, but in comparison to what was left behind it sure did make a big impression. In fact if I'd had the ability to take anything more, I would only have wanted to save more of my original paintings which are truly unique and irreplaceable. God has been showing me through this small, poignant microcosm just how similar packing a go-bag is to living a clean, distraction-free life. There are a few priorities to hold onto no matter what - things that will be important no matter where you are or how fast you're running - and then there are all the other nice things that make life more comfortable while you have the luxury of holding onto them. But no matter how nice the luxuries are, they can never replace those things that are truly valuable and make life worth living, nor should they begin to encroach on those core priorities. Sometimes I find myself holding onto too much extra stuff, and even though it's perfectly good stuff, it's still cluttering up my life and actually making it harder for me to enjoy what's truly important. That's when I know it's time to take a good hard look, make some instinctual decisions, and let the rest move along to another home. Just like how wildfire clears out the clogged underbrush that's built up on the forest floor, sometimes I have to clear out all my extra stuff so I can breath a little deeper and move more freely into what God has next for me. It isn't always easy and it usually isn't fun, but it's always worth the end result. I guess sometimes it just takes a natural disaster to make me realize that. In just about 15 weeks from now I will be flying from California to Hawaii to begin working with YWAM Ships Kona and begin the next big step of my life journey. I've already had many months to process and prepare for this change, and yet the onset of fall has suddenly brought on a new weight and reality to this prospect of change. I am torn between many very strong emotions, each in a different direction. My flesh feels the anxiety of the unknown laying before me and the loss of security which living with my family unit has always provided me. My spirit feels the elation and excitement of stepping into an adventure of faith with Jesus and other people who love Him like I do. My heart feels both the sorrow of separation from my loved ones as well as feeling deeply loved by God to be given such a perfect and unexpected opportunity to shine in the unique way He has created me to. And my mind feels the heavy weight of responsibility that serving in ministry carries. "Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly." Many people jump into ministry from the passion and compassion in their hearts, and they step forward boldly to fulfill their understanding of the Great Commission. This is a wonderful instinct to heed, and at the same time I am also wary to do so with both the wisdom of a serpent and the innocence of a dove. (Matthew 10:16) Everyone has their own idea of what ministry looks like and what making disciples of all nations looks like. We can each only walk faithfully from our own understanding and conviction as we remain in relationship with the guidance of the Holy Spirit. That's why we see so many different expressions of ministry spread across different cultures and denominations, and also why we should never rush to judge the forms of expression that are different from our own. At the end of our lives, we will be held accountable to God and not to anyone else. All I can do is strive to honor and obey God in everything I say and do, and encourage others to likewise do the same. One thing that I will freely admit to have struggled with is the concept of evangelism - particularly while serving with an evangelistic missionary organization. I believe evangelism to be an important function of the church and one of the gifts poured out by the Holy Spirit, but I can't say that it is a gift I myself carry. I am eloquent enough to express myself with a degree of clarity, and I will happily engage in as long or deep a conversation with anyone who wants to know about my own faith and walk with God, but I have never felt the urge or any amount of comfort in crossing someone else's boundary of personal space in order to initiate such a conversation. An appreciation for and better understanding of the heart of evangelism is something I pray God will continue to grow in me. Because this is a mental hesitation of mine, I have actively sought for God to show me what my life in ministry is to look like. I'm sure it will be a blend of using the strength of my own gifts as well as being stretched to rely on the strengths of others when stepping outside of my own comfort zone. One thing this has brought to my mind is the life of Jesus Himself. What did evangelism look like for Jesus? Admittedly, Jesus walked and lived in an entirely different time, culture, and context than anything I ever will. He was the message itself, and not merely the propagator of it. He also did very little to ever promote Himself or His message aside from simply living it out boldly and speaking to those who came to hear Him. He was publicly baptized and He did call disciples to Himself, but He never put up flyers or advertised for his next sermon. His very presence and His growing reputation generated a crowd which followed Him, and people joined and left that crowd at their own choice. Jesus was far more interested in keeping the few who genuinely cared than the hundreds of gawkers who just wanted to see what kind of entertainment He could provide. Jesus always made it a habit to present Himself at the synagogue first - the place of worship where the attendees were already professing to be seekers of God's truth. In other words, He went first to those who by all rights should have received Him. Some did, and others didn't, but He always had to give them the choice first in order to highlight their true heart postures and motivations. After that, He would go into open and secluded places and let people follow Him if they wanted to hear more. After respectfully and lawfully introducing Himself to those religious authorities of the area, he would step away from the grip of their control so He could bring teaching in a neutral context. He came to reform the system, not start a war with it - even though He also came with the knowledge that those in power would be the ones to start a war against Him. So what, then, can I as a follower of Jesus learn form this model? For starters, I don't posit to carry a revolutionary new message that will turn the modern day church on its head. But I do believe I carry seeds of the love and forgiveness I have been shown, and I also believe that by sharing that love I can help others understand God's heart for them better. Hopefully even well enough for them to want to step into their own relationships with Him too. "If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. Even though my mission is not nearly as grand as His, I believe that I can still use His general approach and walk in similar humility. To first go to those who claim to know and love God, and then to make myself available to those who know they are in need and who might not believe they are worthy of divine interaction. After all, Jesus didn't come for the healthy, but for the sick. (Mark 2:17) We were all lost in our sin, but it was those who recognized their own brokenness that came to Jesus are were healed. As one who has known the taste of that brokenness, I believe it is my place to share the joy of my own healing in order to give hope that it is freely available to any other broken souls seeking relief. That's what ministry looks like for me.
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ErikaJeremiah 29:11 Archives
March 2023
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