heart stirrings. Kingdom.

I have been attending Bloom church for a few weeks now. Andrew Arndt has been teaching through the Sermon on the Mount. The past two teaching have been on prayer.

He shared something about how, to find out the main point of Greek writing, you look at the center of what is written. If you look at the center of the Sermon on the Mount, you find prayer. And if you look to the center of the writing on prayer, you find Kingdom. For some reason, this brings tears to my eyes. I understand so little about what it looks like to actively engage the Kingdom of God and be a vessel of His Kingdom becoming reality on this earth. But, unlike every before, my very being yearns to foster this reality - for my life to be an avenue through which God is able to restore His creation to Himself.

Do you know how radically that has been changing my view of life, at its very core? How it changes the message of Jesus? How an absurdly impossible call to life, that we find in the pages of Scripture are transformed to a reality that we are chosen vessels – an avenue through which God will accomplish His purposes?

I know without doubt that I am not the person I was only a few years ago. Not in the simple way of growing up and learning more about life, hobbies and interests evolving and such. But literally, elements of my inner being have changed. The capacity within me to love a person, the yearning for truth, the struggle to surrender things that I once fully believed to be my entitled right, and other aspects. In recent conversations, I have wished that people could have a glimpse at the person who once existed. Not for recognition or the opportunity to boast, but for hope for redemption and evidence of healing. The deeper Christ calls me, the more I am finding freedom in my inability to exist as anything good apart from the abounding grace of God. Hopefully this is only the beginning. 

In the not so distant past, if asked if I truly believed that it was possible for me to exist as a new creation, I would have had significant doubts. I had spent years striving…and miserably failing. I believed I was the exception and deep inside, didn’t know if the power of the Cross was enough to redeem my brokenness. Filthy pride.

And what am I learning now? To surrender…continually. To surrender to a life greater than my own. I am learning to believe that the Kingdom of God is the only cause worth surrendering my life to. That while difficult, there is much life and freedom. That to hear faint beatings of the heart of God for this world is the most heartbreaking and precious sound. May I continue to press in closer…

Haiti

For some time I have wanted to write about my experience in Haiti. This will not be a complete account - that would make this unbearably long to read...

Our method of entry into the country was an all day bus trip from Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic. The bus ride was fantastic - air conditioning, a little space, time to be still. We crossed the border while it was still daylight and my first thoughts were, "This is what it looks like in the movies when they're showing border crossings in the middle east." The images are still incredibly vivid. Desolate. Broken. Hard. We made it through successfully, after experiencing a few... hiccups on the Haitian side with the supplies we were trying to bring into the country. But everything made it in. A couple of students felt what it was like to encounter the darker side of the spiritual realm we live in for the first time. The mood for the following hours and miles as we drove into Port Au Prince was somber and quiet as physical darkness began to fall. Personally, I couldn't help but smile...God had something in store.

Despite our arrival that was 2-3 hours later than anticipated and confusion on where exactly the bus would drop us off, our in-country contacts picked us up and carried us to the home of Carl & Maya Gilles - Global Partners missionaries. They joyfully welcomed us into their home, had an AMAZING Haitian meal prepared and showers and clean bed ready. The 12 or so hours we spent in their home, before heading to our site for the week were so incredible. If you have a few moments, read their bio on their website. This couple and their 3 daughters is one of the most beautiful families I have encountered. Such an incredibly God-story and Kingdom hearted people.

Our next journey led us to Petit Goave, Haiti. A two hour drive turned into a five hour drive in a caged-in flat bed truck with wooden benches in it. To be honest, I miss that thing. It amazing how creative a person can be as they try and discover the most comfortable way to travel...

The drive was filled with images that will forever be imprinted in my mind, aromas that I have no doubt will trigger memories if encountered again, flattened and crumbling structures, tent cities, and people - so many people. Any time the vehicle stopped, we were immediately swarmed with people selling water, bread, candy, merchandise and other things I can only guess as to what they were. 

We finally arrived at the Wesleyan compound. Our anticipated home of tents turned out to be a cement bunkhouse with metal bunk beds available for the team - we were so grateful. That day we unpacked, met our contacts, hung mosquito nets, became somewhat familiar with our surroundings and started working.

Our work for the day - three hours picking up concrete pieces that were the remains of the wall that once surrounded the the compound, put them into bags that once contains concrete mix, carried the full bags across the road, dumped them and repeated the process. After doing this multiple times over the next week, the main thought that stayed with me was, "Of course this country remains destroyed." At the time, there was no plan for clean-up, never mind rebuilding. This thought launched stirrings in my heart that I continue to wrestle through. 

Throughout the week we did VBS at various schools and tent cities in the surrounding areas. We built relationships with our translators and tried to figure out what exactly God was asking of us during our time there. The only thing we knew to do was to love. For me, this was abnormally difficult. 

My heart was weary. I didn't understand how I was to communicate the love of Jesus to a people who knew a completely different life than I can even comprehend, even prior to the earthquake. The believers we encountered know a faith that rocked my world. I was frustrated at my lack of understanding and the numbness of my heart. I asked and pleaded with God to move, to reveal, to do...something. And I remained empty. So what do I do when I'm empty? I contribute physically - I do something. Quickly my physical strength was zapped. And by zapped I mean that there were times when it took all of my mental capacity to put one foot in front of the other. I didn't understand. Emptiness plagued me for the course of the week and I felt utterly helpless. By the grace and strength of God alone, I was able to engage throughout the week and love the people we encountered with a love entirely outside of myself. But I questioned what exactly we were really doing. 

I have a relatively good amount of international travel in my experience. Never have I wanted to leave the place I was in. In fact, it is one of the places I am most comfortable - in a culture completely foreign to me. But I was ready to leave Haiti. Our truck pulled up seven days later and I was all to glad to get on - and I felt guilty. But we headed back to Port au Prince for a day of debrief before getting on a plane and heading back to the U.S. It would be about a week later before I would begin to understand what exactly happened. 

We were at Bethel College in Mishawaka, IN, getting ready to dive into KBM's Deep Camp. Our team was sitting with John Vermilya, a KBM itinerant speaker and raised in Port au Prince. As I sat and listened to his heart for the Haitian people and saw his passion and love for this country, as well as the difficulty, I felt like my heart was able to breathe again. This country is broken...it's history begs the question if it is even able to be restored. As I listened to John share of the country's history and hear about the reality of it's people, my heart broke and my love for them deepened. The glimpses of beauty that I encountered while there grew in their impact. My hope was ignited. I wanted to go back. 

I hope that one day I will be able to return to this country. To it's people. To do what? I have no idea. But I do believe that I serve a God that enters into the deepest of brokenness and darkness and restores. And I trust that our time in Haiti was not without purpose. And I am grateful for a God who is greater than my capacity to understand Him or this world I live in. 

longing

The following words are a collection of thoughts that came pouring out of my heart a couple of months ago, as the decision to move to Colorado full time was moving into reality....

So often the desires and longings that reside within us are misunderstood, abused and destroyed. We have been created in the image of God with great intention. So in struggle, do we seek to know the heart of God? Do we want to look past the initial face of our experience to know more intimately the passion of our God? Most of the time the answer is no. We ignore. We gratify. We indulge. We allow misdirected desire to lead us down paths of guilt and shame. But as I journey and am forced to deal with this aspect of my intentional creation, I am forced to believe there must be something more.

We, as humans, have been intentionally created to long for satisfaction. For connection. For intimacy. And so many times we stop at that point. It’s gratifying and meets the immediate perceived need. There is a basic human need for love.  We look to the Creation story and see that relationship is demanded. We will feel incomplete without it at some level.

Currently, I find myself in a place of longing. There is a simple desire for relationship - community. To be pursued and known by those I trust and know. Friendships have emerged with an unexplainable heart connection and it’s undeniable that it’s Kingdom connection. But limited time creates unfulfilled longing. There is always the potential for unhealthy expectation and dependency, but I do believe that God intended us to long for relationship. Community has been crafted into our DNA. We may be fearful and cautious, but the desire to know and be known tells us that it’s worth the risk. We experience delight and disappointment in the humanness of this world. What I am seeing is that even with all the time I desire and all the pursuit I can handle, satisfaction will never be achieved. There will never be the moment of complete contentment.

So now what? Do I simply sit and wait? Not this time. I’m asking and searching. And in searching, I am encountering a God that groans for His creation. Yearning for His people to receive Him. To be captured by Him. To risk it all, lay before him, uncovered and raw, and allow Him to respond. The God I have encountered is unexpected. A Gentleman. A Lover. The Pursuer of my heart – the entirety of my heart. He delights over me. Dances over me. Dreams over me. Sees me fully. Knows me fully. And loves me completely.

Over the past years, there has been an unfolding and evolving display of my posture towards God and His response to me…

It began with a girl kneeling, arms hanging to her sides, and head hung in shame. And there was a man standing before her with a deep look of compassion on His face. The man extended His hands to the girl and in His eyes was communicating a longing to redeem. The girl, after a time, reaches her hands up – first in desperation, then in surrender. The man steps forward and so gently cups his hands beneath her chin, whispers “child,” and slowly lifts her face towards His own. As her head is being lifted, an internal battle rages. “Can I trust Him? Do I dare meet my eyes with His? What if He sees?” She cautiously decides she has no other option. As her eyes lift to meet this man, she breaks. In his eyes, she sees herself – every part of it. He sees her. And there is no judgment. No accusation. Only love. After a time, He raises her to her feet and she dances and rejoices in worship. It can be her only response. And now. Now He reaches out, takes her in His arms, and holds her. And she presses in. She hears the life of His heart beating and rests in that place, staying as close as possible. She wants to know Him.

And it is not over. Their relationship will continue to evolve and flow. But the Truth of this relationship is that the Man will only call the girl deeper - to greater intimacy. He will continue to know her and receive her. And the most beautiful part of their relationship will be His offering for her to know Him. To enter into His dwelling place and know levels of intimacy and trust that she is unable to comprehend. He will invite her to abide with Him. And it is only in this place, that she will find complete satisfaction.

wrestle with transition

The thoughts below are the simple expression, often composed of fragmented sentences, of the struggle to live in a new place: 

This week has been difficult. As I navigate in the location that is now home, my heart has been breaking and I don’t know why. Tears are often on the verge of falling. The desire to cry out and to shut down, daily have a show down. Usually emotions are bottled up and I try to pursue the daily activities of my life. But something is locked up. I don’t know if it’s good or painful. Right now there is much pain. Perhaps emptiness? It’s really difficult to tell.

It began as I walked off the plane in Toronto. In the drive to Kitchener. In the awkward silence of much time spent in traffic. In questions asked and answered. In running errands. Solving problems. Seeing reality. Serving quietly. Sharing intentionally. Observing. Feeling known and yet not quite. Knowing and not fully. Living in community.

Perhaps that’s it. I miss community. Community of the day-to-day. I, a self-proclaimed independent and self-sufficient being, long for community. I miss the conversations that demand more effort than information to simply fill time. Of being able to share space with someone who will ask the difficult questions and call out the struggle they see. To share in joy and pain with. There have been times when the expression of my heart is met with silence. That is okay – nothing wrong. But calls to the longing of wanting to be known.

Yesterday granted relief. Hope. A conversation shared in front of a café in downtown Denver. A new friend. A friend who dared to share the stories of her journey with loneliness and longing for a different place, closer friends, and true community. I listened a lot. She shared much. It was a gift of trust and beauty. The heart’s expression is always beautiful. 

Tonight reminded me that we do not walk this journey alone. As I shared a conversation with a friend that is 1,500 miles away, I was reminded that being alive is walking fully aware. Over 1.5 hours, our conversation brought tears and laughter and moments of silence that were not awkward. Those are treasured minutes. I was convinced yet again that authenticity is worth it. And it is beautiful. Beautiful to not be satisfied with anything less than was is true. It is there I have encountered the Holy. Such peace and goodness can coexist with loneliness. 

Tonight...tonight the heaviness is much lighter. I am grateful. For friends. For a patient and gentle God. For the quiet Voice that continues to call me to trust. 

Ontario

My time this summer gifted me a friendship with the directors of Urban Ex - an organization out of Toronto that "engages people of all ages and all walks of life o examine their perspectives by walking a mile in other people's shoes so that they can live more authentically, enabling them to make more intentional and effective change in their communities." The time I spent with them redefined they way I interact with the world around me. 

After the days this summer shared with Em Johnson and Alan Waugh, there has been an urgency to go to Toronto and walk with them for a bit. This past week was the fulfillment of that. I cannot begin to express the life experienced. As I was sharing a bit about the trip recently, someone made the observation that I looked very full. It was a much better account of how I felt than what I was attempting to communicate. My heart was full. And it has left me torn. And also left me in wonder.

The days spent in Kitchener and Cambridge were absurdly simple. Sharing meals, meeting friends, watching TV, driving, preparing, silly adventures, much laughter. And it was comfortable. Silence wasn’t awkward. Random conversations were in abundance. Deep questions and deep answers shared. Authenticity was given freedom. I believe it to be the type of community we are called to. The joy in the slow journey of loving and trusting is absurdly beautiful. My heart beat more fully.

My final day was spent in Toronto. And when I say day, I mean until 3am when we had to leave to go to the airport so I could catch my 6am flight. 

Toronto. Incredible. Life pulsed through my veins as we walked the city for 13 hours. Meeting people, walking intentional steps and experiencing beautiful moments. I would go many more nights without sleep for more times like that. Life. Again, as I walked in lifestyles very different from the one that is familiar, there was joy. A knowledge that the abnormal is where I am comfortable. Stepping into different cultures, countries, situations (sometimes less than safe) – I come alive and have peace. The moments I walk away with leaving the deepest impressions, would, to some, seem insignificant.

• Lunch listening to an accordion while observing an elderly gentlemen sitting close by, captured by the music
• Purchasing earrings from a gentleman who see’s the potential of the unwanted and discarded
• Walking the path of two friends who have abandoned logic and security to pursue a calling that is unveiling eyes one life at a time
• Imagining a reality other than the one before me as places and people were explained and referenced
• An alley of graffiti paired with a reminder that I am absurdly awkward despite the desire to be a little more free

          

• Coffee. A lot of delicious coffee.
• Watching films that demanded reflection on the unknown broken stories of the people we pass every day paired with painful memories of my own journey and gratefulness for healing
• A couple of hours watching a man work and speak. Work with intensity and passion as he carved soap. Speak with freedom. Freedom of revelation, joy, honesty and lack of self-consciousness. What a powerful display of life and beauty.

• Church. A sanctuary. Determination to never abandon the belief that all people are to be loved well. That the call to community was not accompanied with restrictions and limitations.
• The most intentional walk seemingly going nowhere. A few tears fell.
• Bright lights. Fountains. And more awkwardness. Which turned into so much laughter and fun.

• Good conversation shared over dinner – a deeper glimpse into the hearts of friends
• Walking the streets, observing the interesting, entertaining and at time stupid behaviors of people with too much time and money on their hand. And yet, in the insanity, your heart breaks for the emptiness that must reside inside if they feel compelled to such an unfulfilling lifestyle.
• Robert Thomas Payne. How can you not love this man? I have no doubt that one could sit for hours and hear the countless stories of the life he has lived. His eyes alone tell of quite a journey. Continue pressing forward, friend.

These are the moments I cherish. The moments I hope to relive once again.