Respond to the Roaring Lion.

It’s been one of those days. One of those two cups of coffee and a long shower and no noise kind of days.

Last night, I feel asleep on the living room floor watching the Tour de France race through the mountains. Though my bedroom is right upstairs, I couldn’t bring myself to get off the ground and walk fifteen seconds and crawl into bed. It’s like I had melted into the earth beneath. So, I slept on the floor. All night long.

It’s not the first time I’ve had unconventional sleeping arrangements. My beds across the world have looked like a pile of blankets for a bit of padding, a one inch pad on roughly finished concrete and dirt, an air mattress, a couch, a rooftop. Last night’s snooze shouldn’t have been a surprise for my body.

But today was rough. The first words from my father when he saw me were, “Wow. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.” And I sure as heck felt like it. My hair was a mess, yesterday’s make up was running down my face, and my neck and head were throbbing to the ticking beat of a bomb getting ready to explode. I remember waking up multiple times throughout the night to flip, turn, sleep on one, two, or no pillows. I was a mess. In hopes it would take the pain away, I barely remember guzzling my coffee. Praying it would relieve some tension, I took an extra long shower.

I decided I needed to get out of the house and drove to my local coffee shop. With my purse, books, and favorite zip up hoodie wrapped around me, I curled into the leather chair, popped in my headphones, and savored the fresh brew.

Nothing.

I read some, talked to a few people that wandered by my seat, yet I still felt nauseous from the pressure traveling up my neck and around my head. This is stupid, I thought to myself. I don’t have time for this. And how embarrassing, since I technically chose to sleep on the floor.

I changed my music to sweet Steffany Gretzinger and dear Kim Walker-Smith, and decided to create something new by surrounding key words and coloring the page of an old book. Cracking open to a random page in a book printed in 1922, I went after it. And, oh how sweet my morning became.

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Prince. It’s all about royalty.

Cold ashes of the fire. How my body and soul felt.

Full-grown king lion. The One who walks among us.

Our confidence. Remains in the Roar.

To my surprise, as I drew and worshipped, the tension left and the nausea fled and my pain was relieved. Which really is no surprise at all. I was sweetly reminded of how our Father hates when we’re in pain, whether we choose it or not, and how precious His healing touch is when we approach His throne in worship and confidence.

Let us all join together in worship and urge the Father to gently  heal our hearts. The King Lion is calling; will you respond?

Saying No

There’s been a lot going on lately.

I feel like I’ve been split between two extreme worlds: that of the seen and that of the unseen. Which, when looked at with the right eyes, is both seen. I’m constantly trying to find the balance of physically living in the natural, while continually engaging in the spiritual. The more I partake in the spiritual world, the more I recognize that it is far more powerful and interactive than we realize, and to have an equal balance between the two mutes the advancement of any divine movement we could experience. One has to overcome the other.

I grew up in a fantastic, loving, safe home. I learned about Jesus, acted in church plays (represent Gabriel from 1994!), and said my prayers before bed. My brother and I played soccer, and my parents had stable, secure jobs. While we looked great from the outside, not all was perfect. For a short, but impacting time in my life, I experienced verbal and physical abuse firsthand from an outside source. The words spoken over my life at such a young age, though it did not last for a very long time, carried strong repercussions for the years to come.

These words created within me a realm of fear that overflowed into years of bondage and insecurity. Thoughts of not being ___ enough led me to become a person who wanted everyone to be happy, to say yes to whatever someone asked of me, to not maintain boundaries so that I could please others. In return, this led to a world of being led by man and not by God. Man dictated my actions, rather than Father guiding me. Man controlled who I was, instead of living in the identity of Christ. Man’s words screamed death in my ears, rather than Holy Spirit whispering life and life abundant.

People pleasing is the smiling mask worn over the ugly scowl, known as a fear of man. This was a stronghold that I allowed to reign for almost my entire life. Over this past year, I have been trying this new thing of being truly honest with myself, and most recently, I recognized that a fear of man is something I carry. Or, rather, something I used to carry.

There are things in which I am being led to pursue by God, yet my fears have sounded something like this:

What will people say?

I don’t have a complete plan or absolute details figured out.

I don’t know even what I will be doing.

It probably won’t look anything like people expect.

What if I don’t have answers to their questions?

Actually, I’m pretty sure I won’t have answers at all.

Then what??

But God. God has said something and all I am asked to do is walk out in faith, one step at a time, without knowing anything else. The Kingdom of God is ruled by a King that imparts power to His people to push back darkness with the ever-victorious Light, not invite more darkness and let the candle flicker out in the corner.

These two worlds are always in contrast with each other and they vie for our affections and attention, steering us in one way or another. The enemy instills fear and attempts to keep us from being obedient to following the King’s mandates. For me, the fear was of man, his reactions and responses to my obedience to God. This fear was driven by the enemy, and it’s time that I’ve had enough of it.

These days, I’m allowing the Kingdom of God to outpour through me from the spiritual world into the natural because I’m saying no to people pleasing, no to fear of man, and absolutely no to the enemy’s attempt to steer me away from the King and His mission for my life. Because when I really look at my Jesus, He was a man who was fearless and loving, ferocious and peaceful, relentless and gentle. He not only taught against the status quo, but lived against it as well. He was nothing short of life abundant, and died so that others may have the same. He reigned with power, and in no way allowed fear to creep into His life.

That’s who I follow, and that’s who I stand by, until the day I die. I’m saying no to anything else, and yes to the King of all.

What about you?

Present Anticipation

I’m living in anticipation these days.

When I landed in good ol’ America five months ago without a scheduled exit date, it was a struggle to stay present. I can’t remember the last time I was somewhere without knowing when I would next be hopping on a plane, train, or car, and walking into a new season of life in a new place with new people. Instead, I treated the start of this season differently, as less than any other season I had walked into. I started a new job with new people, but in the same town and under the same roof I grew up in. I was not ok.

I’ve traveled the world, seen color and beauty like no other, done things that make my heart leap, and breathed out the Spirit of God on the lands of Latin America, Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. It’s incredible to think of the places I’ve walked in my short 25 years of life, and I’m deeply grateful for the doors that have been opened to me. Now, I’m back in Dallas and, no offense to my family who always, graciously welcomes me with open arms, but it’s the last place I want to be.

Transition has been rough. It’s never easy for me, and this time was no different. I fought being here for so long. I was like a child who was being picked up by her father from her favorite toys and put in the cry room. The room full of rockers and pillows and tissues and sound proof walls. I sat and banged my fists on the ground, asking, “Why? Why? Why am I here, and not there??” I didn’t understand the Father and I questioned everything on a daily basis.

Through the loving, but piercing questions from new friends, I have cried many tears that flooded and overflowed into the deeper, ugly parts of my soul. Until this season in my life, deep down, I had given up on the church in America. Washed my hands and walked away. Decided that revival in America was for somebody else to carry and definitely not my responsibility. I would think to myself, Surely I’m meant to be overseas. Surely I’m not supposed to be in America. I’m made for more than this place. Get me out of here.

I’ve realized that everything about that thinking is wrong.

When the nastiness of our hearts are exposed, we are left with two decisions. One, to allow it to remain and continue festering in our souls, feeding bitterness and cynicism. Or we kick it out, fists flying and hearts racing, and bring in truth and beauty to fill the spaces.

I talk a lot about how we carry the presence of God, putting on new glasses, looking to where God is at work and joining Him in that. For me, it’s easy to live in that way when in a country full of idols staring at you and buildings blaring the mantra of the day across the city. Of course, my God is the same there as He is here, but I think I have been afraid to admit that I didn’t actually believe that. And that is ugly.

Because here, it is the same situation. The idols look different and the mantra sounds unconventional, but it’s still a place of people walking through life empty, hurting, and broken. If the purpose of life is to join God in His work of bringing all peoples of the world to praise His name, then my ears need to be tuned in to listening for where I don’t hear the name of God being lifted. That could be across the world, or here in the city I grew up in. It’s my decision to choose if I want to actively listen.

Though it’s still a struggle, I’m becoming more and more present. I wake up and choose to live in present anticipation. Not anticipation of leaving Dallas (though I would get on a plane tomorrow if I could), but of hearing and seeing where God is moving in this place, in this city, in this nation.

I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, standing on the edge of a cliff, and I see Him swaying among the trees and pages that flip when He walks by. I’m excited to be here because I know, in the depths of my heart, that He is here. His presence is near and alive. With eyes alight, I’m listening for the ones crying out for more and I’m willing to say, “Here. Come. Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

Because, my friend, He is good. In every place of the world, He is good. He reigns. He is worthy of praise, regardless of where we are. Live in present anticipation of His movement today, and I promise you will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Aslan Is On the Move

I’m one who likes to stay posted on world news and happenings. I think it’s smart to keep in touch with the realities of what is happening in other places outside of my own so that I don’t walk in the naivety that everything is flowers and roses. Lately, however, the news headlines, just from this past week, seem to be worse and worse each day:

The Ebola epidemic, stretching from Guinea to Nigeria, has killed over 1,000 people

ISIS attacks and unrest continue in Iraq

Suspected suicide of Robin Williams

Africa’s last polar bear died

Missiles being shot across Israel and Gaza

Boko Haram continues to kidnap young women in Nigeria

Teenager sets himself on fire while his mother helps

Protests in Missouri over alleged racist killing of an 18-year-old, resulting in release of the National Guard to protect citizens and police

Plane crash kills a Brazilian presidential candidate

Ukrainian government continues to fight pro-Russian separatists, resulting in over 2,000 deaths

I have opted in to receive automatic notifications from my CNN app to help me stay on top of things. Last week, I remember looking at my phone and seeing yet another blurb of bad news from CNN, and thinking to myself, “When will this stop?” I sighed a release of exhaustion from reading these things, paused for a brief thanks that I don’t have to dodge missiles or fear Ebola creeping in my organs, and continued about my day pulling espresso shots and making latte art.

I began to become bothered at how these notifications did not affect me like they really should. Sure, I was sad to see something else going on, but it didn’t hit me deep in my spirit like it should. It was like I had come to expect bad news, instead of expect good news. So, what do I do when bad news isn’t surprising anymore?

Since Eve first made headlines from eating the forbidden fruit, bad news has come to perpetrate our every day lives. It has instilled mistrust, fear, and instability in a world that was originally intended to walk in harmony with the Father. People lay their heads down at night hungry, sick, and hurting in places deeper and more complex than where bone and sinew meet. What’s the point of all this wrong? Why is it happening?

When Jesus was on the earth, He taught the disciples how to pray. The beginning of the prayer goes like this:

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

Jesus said that we should first recognize God as our Father and as holy. Then, He calls us to pray for His kingdom to come and His will to be done–the same on earth as it is in heaven. No pain, no fear, no bad news. Rather, He wants us to pray that earth would look and smell and feel and taste more and more like heaven every day. If I may be so bold, I don’t think that means us as Christians are to sit and pray and wait for God to come and eradicate all that is evil in the world. I think, instead, it is a call to action. A call for us to start spending our time, talents, and resources to transform earth into a more heaven-like place.

I recently read a book that briefly speaks of this world that God longs to see. The author, Sarah Bessey, references a popular and powerful quote from a classic C.S. Lewis tale after describing a place without fear and evil:

The Table may be loud and dominant, but love and freedom are spreading like yeast. I see hope creeping in, destabilizing old power structures. I feel it in the ground under my feet. I hear it in the stories of the people of God living right now. We’re whispering to each other, eyes alight, “Aslan is on the move.” Can’t you feel that? The kingdom is breathing among us already. -Jesus Feminist, 4

I believe that Aslan is already on the move in this earth, and that if we look closely, we can see His hand pushing out the enemy’s strongholds and His breath consuming things in opposition to Him. I believe that I (and all followers of Christ, for that matter) carry the power to transform this world into that which God desires it to be. I believe that Jesus commanded we pray for kingdom to come to earth just like heaven because He believes in us to join alongside His already existing work in the world in restoration and love. Colossians 1:27 confirms this power by declaring that the mystery has been made known, “which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”

While there are thousands of people living in fear around the world, I think it’s time we rise up and declare the hope of Christ. We don’t have time to waste sitting in our safe homes, ignoring the cries of desperation, while God is asking us to be His mouthpiece to the hopeless. People are waiting for us to walk through the door and whisper into the depths of their souls that today is the day when fear dies and love prevails. It’s when we surrender our perception of safety and security that we can step beyond ourselves, look to where God is already in momentum within the world, and partner with His work in bringing His kingdom to earth, just as it is in heaven.

Do you believe it is actually possible for earth to be like heaven? Do you have your ears and eyes in tune to see the work of the Holy Spirit already moving? Are you ready to join hands with God and bring hope to this seemingly hopeless world?

Sprinkles in My Coffee and Tea at Midnight

The other night, I could not fall asleep. I laid in bed and was completely unable to turn my brain off. It raced and raced and raced and…well you get the point. My thoughts bounced to my family back home, what I want my future home to look like, the times my Granny would stack the deck playing Solitaire, to praying for my husband and children and grandchildren. I thought of what life in the Middle East will look like, what all my friends will look like when they grow old, and new kinds of food and dinner parties and creating spaces for comfort and hope and restoration. I decided around 4:30 a.m. that if I was awake at 5:30, then I would get up for the day. Thankfully, I fell asleep at 5.

A few hours later I woke up and made a decision. A life-altering decision, for that matter. Before my feet hit the floor, I decided that I would not let the lack of sleep affect my day, my attitude, my emotions. My friendships would not be altered, my thoughts would be steadfast, and my spirit would be full. The joy of the Lord is my strength, I sung to myself as I shuffled across the room and opened the door.

I went into the kitchen and poured some coffee. Normally, I just put sugar in my coffee, but this was a different day. A little dash of sugar and a little dash of cinnamon. A tiny splash of milk to top it off. But it wasn’t finished. Although I do not like my coffee too sweet, I looked around the kitchen for that missing piece. Next thing I knew, I was pouring sprinkles in my coffee.

Excuse me, what?? That’s probably one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard or done myself. They don’t even float. They sunk straight to the bottom of the mug and mixed in with all the other yumminess that was in there. I couldn’t even see the reds and yellows and blues that went in. But as soon as I took a sip, I knew it was what I needed. The joy of the Lord is my strength. I felt so alive, so awake, so sensitive to the goodness of life.

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I was beyond ready to sleep by the time I crawled into bed for the night, but my body would not shut down. I had far surpassed being tired and had quickly become delirious. After a few hours, I reluctantly went into the kitchen as a friend followed and shut the door. The house was still, save for a few people talking in the living room. With exhausted tears welling in my eyes, I boiled some hot water and poured a cup of tea. I sat with my head in my arms as my friend silently scratched my back and the tea steeped. Once the tea had cooled enough for me to drink, it happened. That first sip broke the dam and tears flooded my face. The peace of God surpasses my understanding.

There’s something about drinks that reveal a tangibility of the Triune God. When God established the various offerings in the Old Testament, He instated the drink offering, which was typically given with another offering, and symbolized restoration, devotion, and sacrifice. Jesus used wine as the outcome of His first miracle, as well as a representation of His poured out blood in the Upper Room. The believer is filled with Holy Spirit, and out of him flows rivers of living water, getting everyone around him soaked with the Spirit. Sprinkles in my coffee fills me with the joy that indwells me, and hot tea at night embraces my soul with the peace of a warm hug.

At the table of God, there’s always enough to drink, whether water or wine or juice or coffee, love or patience or gentleness or joy. The woman at the well in John 4 knew that the well is deep. Do you?

Consuming Fire

Over time, I have been unofficially designated as the fire maker in my house here in Spain. Which is actually humorous considering I grew up with a gas fireplace in Texas, where I was afraid to even turn it on from fear of blowing up the house. Before I came to Spain, I had only ever started maybe two real fires in my life, and now I make one here almost on a daily basis. I guess my inner Girl Scout (which I never was) is coming to fruition.

Recently, God has been speaking to me about the spiritual realm through the physical realm in very strong and obvious ways; most significantly, through fire.

There is power in fire. It brings light into darkness, cultivates heat in cold, sends people into deep thought and deep laughter. Fires can be a small flame that barely flickers, or a roaring lion in the corner of a living room. There is something beyond mesmerizing about fires. I think it is through the dynamic power of fire that God has chosen it to teach me.

The last few weeks of 2013 and first week of 2014 was a challenging time. I would wake up in the middle of the night, spinning in my bed, tangled in my comforter, as if I was fighting something. Turns out, my spirit was wrestling with the Spirit of God. I had stepped back into the forest of my past and was still clinging to others’ love as priority in my life. My spirit was wrestling Holy Spirit because I was not ready to completely give up my desire for love from man in order to receive God’s complete love in my life and to have it as number one.

For the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God. -Deuteronomy 4:24

God invaded my dreams one night and came to me in a beautiful way, where I watched the lies, the insecurities, the weaknesses of my past die. He then romanced me as my groom and His bride, opening my heart to start to receive His love for me. However, the next day, something happened. I was making a fire for the evening and bumped my hand on the inside of the fireplace. Sizzling and smoke radiated from my hand, and I ended up with a quarter-sized burn.

Are you done playing with fire? Are you tired of getting burned?

I couldn’t contain the tears that welled up in my eyes. Not from the pain of my burn, but from the pain and longing in my heart.

Yes, yes, yes! I’m done playing with fire. I’m exhausted from getting burned. From seeking unhealthy relationships. From seeking the love of others. From finding my identity in what people think and say. I’m done. I’m tired. I just want you, Jesus!

The healing process of a burn is painful. Anything that touched my hand would send throbbing pain up my arm, and it felt like a never-ending cycle of Neosporin, Aleve, and prayers for no scarring. Sometimes, my hand would throb from the heat and pressure of healing. I learned from my mother that whenever something is broken or sprained, it is best to keep it elevated above the heart so blood flow can decrease the swelling. I found that when my hand would start to hurt, the best thing to do was hold it against my heart. My burn would instantly stop throbbing and relief would come. Wounds and burns are healed only when we press them against the heart of the Father, as His pure love draws tenderly against us and redeeming blood flows in.

Last night, I had a close call again when starting the evening fire. The wood had been sparking when new flames ignited; however, I kept blowing and wanting the fire to grow. As soon as I stood up and started walking away, a flame shot out of the fireplace and bursted like fireworks on the 4th of July. My housemate was with me and saw what happened. We both froze, and as he let out a laugh of unbelief that I didn’t get burned, I sat on the couch and teared up with gratitude that I didn’t get burned. It was as if Holy Spirit drew me away from the flames and the love of God protected me from getting burned again.

And I think that’s what God does. He doesn’t put us in situations that will force us to get hurt; we do it to ourselves and to each other. When we listen to His voice and leading, His Spirit guides us, causing us to flee from sin and danger, death and destruction. But if we’re not careful and attentive, we will get burned. Thankfully, God’s love for us never ends, never runs out, always wants to permeate our dreams, our lives, our hearts. It’s when His love invades that our wounds are healed and the fullness of our hearts’ desires are fulfilled.

But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angles, nor principalities, not things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. -Romans 8:37-39

Work It Out.

Here in Spain, I live in the basement of a church. It’s underground and doesn’t get the most sunlight, but overlooks the most beautiful scenery of the mountains and the Mediterranean Sea. We have an amazing balcony that can fit plenty of people during the warm months, as well as a fireplace in the living room that makes the house toasty and inviting during chilly months.

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Between the houses of interns, mine is the larger of the two, which means most social events are hosted here. We typically have people over Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, which also means we spend a lot of time cleaning the house. We long to maintain a standard of excellence, so when people come over, we like to present a house that reflects that standard.

I feel like some days I spend so much time cleaning, that when I pause for a second, the dirt is back where I just cleaned. It seems like a never ending cycle.

Clean, dirty. Clean, dirty. Clean, dirty.

We hosted tapas last night, which in Spanish culture is where family and friends from the community come and enjoy good food and good people as a fun way to unwind from the week. Unlike other nights, we cut the evening early to make a trek to the mall and see the new Hobbit movie. Of course, we didn’t bother to clean before we left, so when we sheepishly crawled into bed at 2 am, cleaning the house was not priority. However, when I woke up this morning, I knew it would take some effort to clean based on the smell of old food and dirty plates and leftover ashes in the fireplace.

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After making my grandma’s homemade coffee cake and brewing fresh coffee for the house, I changed, rolled up my sleeves, and got to work. One of my housemates was sitting on the couch and, as I started sweeping the living room, he said, “I don’t think it gets too dirty in here. I never see the dirt and don’t see the need to clean so much. I actually think it’s pretty clean most of the time.” I chuckled as I saw the dirt and crumbs pile up with every brush of the broom.

As I swept the dirt into the dustpan, I noticed our balcony could use a good sweep. When glancing around, I assumed that the wind would probably take most of the leaves and branches away and that there was no need for me to sweep. Then, as a gust of wind came, God whispered a dear truth into my soul.

My Spirit can blow the dirt and junk off the balcony, but you have to do some work, also. This is a two way relationship, and if you don’t clean your balcony, your house will get dirty too.

I looked and realized the reason our house gets dirty so quickly is because we have piles of leaves in the corners by our door that we don’t bother to clean. The mat in front of our door looked clean, but once I picked it up, what appeared like harmless dirt was actually dead bugs and broken twigs. Tiny pieces of glass and torn pieces of paper went flying in the wind. Glass that cuts deep and words on paper that cut deeper were gone with the fierce gust of the Spirit.

I have been reminded a lot lately about how continual sanctification and growth in God does not happen just when I sit at the table and wait for someone to feed me. I have to pick up my fork, scoop the food onto my plate, and feed myself. All I have in Christ is provided at His table of feast and abundance; it is my responsibility to sit down and eat.

So then, my beloved…work out your salvation with fear and trembling… -Philippians 2:12

To work out salvation translates from the original Greek of “to fashion or render one fit for a thing.” As a daughter of the King, He has made it my responsibility to work out my salvation, to cultivate sanctification. The King does not have children who are lazy and talk without acting, but He has children who work hard and act without needing to talk.

If I am faithful to work out my salvation, continually cultivating sanctification and walking by the Spirit, then I will not carry out the desire for what is forbidden in my flesh (Galatians 5:16). My balcony will stay clean, and my home won’t be full of dirt and mire, constantly needing to be swept.

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I’d love to hear from you. What do you think it looks like to work out your salvation? How are you doing in regards to that? Are you being consistent to keep your house clean so that your balcony reflects that which is within?

Music and Podcasts and Believing in Others

I think part of what made me fall in love with music was the way it would lull me to sleep when I was little. Every night, my parents would sing “I love you, Lord” as I lay on my Beauty and the Beast sheets and drifted into dreamland. The simplicity of one song before bed transitioned into classical music on the radio, then Christian music, and then pop music well into my rebellious high school days.

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Once in college, I had become used to falling asleep to various kinds of music, so I did what any good Christian would do and started listening to church sermons on podcasts in order to fall asleep. That seemed to work well for a while until I actually started listening to the sermons. Even if I fell asleep in the beginning, sometimes I would wake up in the middle and hear lines about God being our Father or the definition of sanctification or what really happens when we pray.

My dear friend of almost nine years now used to teach at a women’s Bible study, where they would record their lessons and convert them into podcasts. She has such a sweet voice, and since I knew her personally, I loved listening to her teaching at night. I would play her episodes so much that I nearly had them memorized.

There was one episode, one line in fact, that she said that has forever stuck with me, eternally changing my life and direction. I couldn’t tell you what she was teaching on. I couldn’t tell you the context of the line. Not because I don’t want to, of course, but because everything else from this episode fades in contrast to the importance of this statement:

I am for you, and I believe in you.

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Wait, what? You mean to say that you are for me and you believe in me? No matter what junk I have in my life or what kind of a mess I am? You’re saying that I am worth more than I or the world thinks? That there is something in me that gives me purpose and significance and you believe in that?

Since hearing that line and allowing it to resonate in my soul, I truly have come to believe that God is for me, believes in me, and chooses to work through me to bring light to His people. Not only that (which is already awesome enough), but He has brought multiple people into my life who do the same. This month of being home has been overwhelming in the best possible way. Numerous people have expressed to me that they too are for me and believe in me. They see the direction God is leading me and want to get on board because they trust in His work through me. And isn’t it amazing what actually happens when people believe in what God is doing here on earth?

I know I’ve already said this in a post from March, but in case you’ve forgotten or don’t believe this today, I want to tell you that I am for you and I believe in you. Whatever it is you feel stirring in your heart, go after it. Whatever you think is true about yourself, it’s only true if that is how God sees you. Not only do I believe in you, but God does also. And that makes two of us cheering you on in the stands.

Jesus taught us to pray for God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven. So let us start believing in the way God has created us and cry out for His kingdom to come, living and breathing for His name to be known among the earth.

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Thank you to all who have joined me on this journey! I truly would not be where I am today without each of you saying that you are for me and believe in me. I carry the weight of your hearts with me when I live and love among the unreached. You are vital to God’s kingdom coming and His will being done on earth as it is in heaven, and for that I am grateful.