Trust.

For months, several posts have been on my mind, but as my life typically transpires, it’s a whirlwind and I still have the thoughts needing to get out. So it’s now the end of the day on January 1, 2014 and it seems appropriate to write.

The year of 2013 both started and ended tense. It was far from the easiest year I’ve experienced. It was a growth year and growth hurts. It was a year of trust.

Every year I pray over and chose one word to focus on for the year. Instead of a resolution, I ask God to help me chose a word that he wants to teach countless lessons to me over the year and this year it was Trust. Immediately I began to learn lessons of trust.

2013 started with trusting God’s voice in my life. I knew Northern Ireland and the UK was a place God was stirring things in me, growing desires in my heart, releasing dreams, and connecting the dots for many areas of life. My problem was that I was back state-side for Christmas, facing delays in the visa process and gaps in my funding. I was in limbo of where I would end up and logic looked different to every active influencer in my life. I knew God was saying ‘Trust me and we’ll do this together.’ With 24 hours before my return flight, my visa was delivered to me, and I had to make a choice that a few thousand dollars wasn’t going to be the wall to hold me back from chasing God and trusting him.

I stepped into a new season living in Northern Ireland. I continued to be a student at Causeway Coast Vineyard’s Encounter School of Mission. I stepped into a role as Graphics and Multimedia Intern at the church. I stepped away from expectation of others and I continued chasing God and the shared dreams we have together.

This year I learned lessons of trust in God:

• When I want to be a dreamer - He give me dreams.
• When depression struck me and I pulled away from many relationships - He knows the loneliest places of my heart and he brings peace. He stops the lies and replaces it with joy. He gives the wisdom to speak the words “I’m sorry, and I need your support.” His support comes in friends willing to call me out on my crap and my attitudes and who drew me back to reality that I am loved and I could experience happiness again.
• With a longing for a Mr. to share my life with - He is the lasting love who comes before all, He doesn’t want to deprive me but he doesn’t want me to settle on just anyone. Love doesn’t look like what I want it to, but He never leaves or forsakes me. He forgave and forgives me when I have and will mess up and hurt others who try to love me. Waiting on His timing and not pushing for my own is hard, yet will be rewarding. Hearing “I love you” from another person doesn’t always mean butterflies in the stomach. I may feel ready, but I have to trust that my Mr. is also being made ready for me. There are AMAZING men of faith around who prove that daily.
• When finances proved a continuous struggle - God is the financial provider and asking for and accepting help is not bad. It teaches humility and appreciation for people, their generosity and their love.
• When family was far away - He sets the lonely in families, bringing new people in for comfort. He also taught me that sometimes, only the sound of our own family's voices, is the comfort I can have, even if it is only from the far end of a phone line.
• When I step out on faith against logic time and time again to follow His lead - He cheers me on. He blesses me. He honors it. And then He asks me to go farther because he trusts me.
• When I want to be creative. He fills me with ideas, he sets me with people to spur me on, He provides opportunities beyond measure.
• When I call myself an adventurer - He called me that first, and he’s calling me into greater adventures of my faith
• When I want to try my limits He cheers me on and steers me away gently and forcefully. Good things: New recipes, new business endeavours , praying for the sick, prophesying, filming, creating motion graphics, applying for jobs, swimming and so much more. Bad things: saying yes to wrong relationships, debt, not getting enough rest, staying away from His love.

I wasn’t always on the side of being asked to trust. Often, I was asking others to trust me.

• A foreigner in a different culture brings words, traditions, inflections, attitudes, and demeanors that aren’t always comfortable for others.
• Skills and expertise are given for us to use them, but sometime others are uncomfortable and scared by what they don’t know
• Building relationships takes work. A lot of it.

2013 was filled with amazing moments. Tragic moments. Splendid moments. Quiet moments. It was a year that I stood up for what I believed in, when it was counter-cultural (in oh so many ways) and I took hits for it. It was a year I saw lives changed, the kingdom of God brought forth, and God’s presence overwhelm. A year that my skills expanded, my patience was challenged, and my skills where used to connect people to a community of hope. It took a lot of trust.

I have hiked many trails in my life and I’ve seen that these paths— whether oceanside, mountainside, or deep in a forest—can change course without warning. Life is much the same way. We can walk in trust and think everything is going one way, but it changes. I should have expected it, but I just didn’t.

In August, I had a few weeks of growing anxiety surrounding many things. But my word, trust, was echoed in my ear, in my dreams, in my conversations, in my prayers. God was asking me to trust him to lead me away from Northern Ireland and back to the states. September 22 I said ‘see you later’ to many friends, I spent the night with some of my favorites, and the next day I was brought to a bus, which led to a plane, which delivered me back into the United States.

I had no plans. No job. No solid understanding of why. Except God said trust me.

It’s been a few months of being in Arizona and continuing trust to know that the answers will come of why the change.

In these few months home, I’ve been exposed to a new song that I am claiming as one (of many) anthem for the year. It is called ‘Oceans (where my feet may fail)’ by Hillsong United. There is a chorus or bridged that says:

Spirit, Lead me
where my Trust is without borders
let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me

Take me deeper
than my feet could ever wander
and my faith would be made stronger
in the presence of my Saviour.

Lead me where my trust is without borders. No matter what 2014 brings, I want to be walking where my trust is with out borders. I want to experience all God has because I’ve been reclaimed, renamed, renewed, redeemed, and there is nothing that can be more satisfying.

The Masterpiece

This blog, is one I wrote for Real Women: A blog from the women of Causeway Coast Vineyard, posted August 11, 2013. I hope you enjoy it. And if you do, pop on over to their site and check out other wonderful posts http://causewaycoastvineyardwomen.blogspot.co.uk/

__________________________________________________________________________

I love art! I enjoy all forms of it. And like any love, there is growth from where it started to where it’s going to end up.

When I was a child, the moment it was time for art, I was so excited. I could have been at school, at church, or at a friend’s house, my materials could have been pipe-cleaners, paint, chalk or clay—if I was allowed to get messy with anything at anytime I was ecstatic. My favourite thing was melting crayon shavings between two sheets of wax paper to make a “stained glass window.” These masterpieces, I would carry home to my parents and they’d get their time on the refrigerator door or bulletin board and eventually they’d come down. When they came down most often I didn’t know where they’d go.

My dad had his office that was a black hole. We avoided it because we weren’t sure if we went in that we’d come out of it again. But one day I ventured in, snooped around a bit, and was shocked to find artwork I had created years before. Not only my work, by my sibling’s as well. If found things that I know for certain I had thrown into the garbage bin because I wasn’t proud of it, or thought it had lost it’s value. The work that had been tossed away by me had made it back out via my father’s digging hands. He responded that he was proud of the work we did and he wanted to remember how we’d changed over time. I thought he was too sentimental.

At age fifteen, I painted a picture of three angels and a bible verse on a piece of slate with a leather cord for hanging. Again, I carried it home to my mom. That week it was hung next to the front door, and fifteen years later I cringe when I walk through the door because it is still the first thing I see. No matter the amount of my begging and pleading to remove this art that I find subpar, my mother refuses. She still loves it and she says it reminds her of me in my absence and it reminds her to welcome guests as angels. The verse is Hebrews 13:1.

In my final semester of university, I was in an advanced art class and I began a series of artwork where I took one surface and then used the material least likely to be matched with it and essentially wrote out my journal entries. On walls I used pen. On canvases I used pencil. On post-it notes I used paint. On a white boards I used permanent marker. I wrote my entries it in a way that no one, including myself could really read the final outcome without intense effort. Intentionally, I also wrote it in ways that were meant to disappear when the series was done. In the critique, my lecture and fellow students asked why I choose the materials and subject I did. My explanation to them was that I had always been a journal writer. However, when I would fill a journal I would throw it away. The emotion came out in the writing but I didn’t want to remember what I had been through and so it went in the bin. In that moment, I saw the jaws drop throughout the entire group. My professor loved the work, but hated the idea behind it. He told me, that if I didn’t present one of the pieces to him the Friday before graduation (still four months away), he was failing me in the class, because my thoughts and my art were worth remembering. Not only did I have to show it to him before graduation, he challenged me to keep that piece for the rest of my life. I still have five of them.

Today, and for the past eight years, I am a graphic designer. Recently, I completed a website with a portfolio of my work. It’s the first I’ve had. Chatting with a friend, they asked how I chose what went on the site and I had to say honestly that some it work I really like and some is stuff I hate but it’s work that shows my capabilities. They asked why I hated my own work, and my simple response is that I can do better. He pointed out that we are always going to expect growth in design. As a matter of fact we expect it in art, writing, technology, and so many other things, but we don’t always expect it in other areas. He specifically mentioned that we don’t expect growth in our leadership capabilities or even our faith.

My mind started racing at this profound thought that people don’t always expect growth in a faith walk. Often people cling to familiar ways, be it a selection of worship songs, the seat on the aisle, the popular pastor, or the one theological point that is impossible to break free from. There is a tendency to pine after days of the high highs, and moving past the low lows can’t come fast enough. But in this messiness and change, we are shaped into a masterpiece that is loved by God.

My dad dug out of the bin, the artwork that I found worthless, because he found it priceless. God did that for our lives. The world is out to say we’re nothing—a mere passing spec—but our value is defined by One greater than us. In the Message translation, John 3:16-17 is so beautifully written “This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again.” We are pulled out of the bin and restored to honor.

My mom displays my painting in a place where every person entering her home sees it first, because she loves it and she wants to show me off. God puts us on display because we are pleasing and beautiful to him. We are on display because we have a role to play. “What is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor. You made them rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet.” Psalm 8:4-6. Maybe you make the best treats of all the primary school moms; perhaps you are in charge of a team of employees; or it might be that you are a freelancer like me. No matter what it is that fills your days and takes your time God is pleased by you. He likes you and he wants to honor you.

My professor challenged me to keep my work, because he knew that power comes in remembering your journey. In Joshua 4:1-9 there is a scene where God commands Joshua to choose twelve men to a place a stone each at the middle of where they crossed the Jordan. It says they are to be a memorial forever of their journey and where God brought them. Growth in faith is messy. It is happy and sad and every other emotion under heaven. But if there is no remembrance of the journey, future generations miss out on the lessons taught by God.

My progression of art has changed, as has my faith. My materials changed, my tools more precise, and the process is more costly. I can learn new methods, hear new thoughts, and create new ideas. Still the chaos remains. I now keep journals because though they hold the uneasiness, they also hold the beauty God has been so merciful with. Still I want to improve. Improvement is good and healthy. But instead of seeing myself through flawed eyes, I see the masterpiece God has carefully crafted me to be, and I know that the craftsman is not done.

I have expectancy that things are going to change. I have the expectancy that God is going to meet me in new ways, ask me to remember many more things, to teach others, to give up my critiques of worth, to challenge my thinking, and to move me further along. After all, it’s His masterpiece He’s creating, not mine.

Homesick..

It doesn't happen a lot, but today I'm a bit homesick.  I wear a navy jersy-knit dress, gray leggings, navy and pink floral wellie boots, and a moustached print scarf. It's 2:30 pm and I'm trying to stay warm and dry from the rain pouring down outside and the 54º (12ºC)  weather. It's July. It should be warmer.

There's a heat wave in Arizona where my home base is now. They're getting 115-120º (46º-48ºC) and would call me crazy for wanting to be in it.  But I want to smell the sun on my skin, and feel the dry hot breeze across my face.

Picture from Tammy Kleck

I want tortilla chips accompanied by bowl of my friend Jen's fresh guacamole and salsa. I want to drink Boba tea with Danielle. I want to sit pool side while my nephews beg me to swim with them. I want to see all the babies born to my friends while I've been in Northern Ireland. I want to be a bbq with the friends of my small group. I want pizza and pepsi with my mom, and coffee at a diner with my dad. There are so many other events I wish I could do today.

There are red white and blue flags flying here, but they're the wrong ones. I want to see the one to the right.


Tomorrow I'll be fine I'm sure, but today good ol' Uncle Sam is calling.

Generosity – Part 3

Generosity and identity – those are key terms for me in this past year. I understand more fully that they aren't interchangeable, but you can't be generous without knowing a sense of your identity.

I’m still taken by Jeff Shinebarger's book, More or Less: Choosing to Live a Lifestyle of Excessive Generosity that I wrote on in part one. In his book, there is a chapter titled 'More Than Enough,' that touches on the topic of identity and generosity. It has fuelled part of this post.

It seems like we have an innate struggle to see ourselves in a positive light. It is always said we are our own worst critics. We fear our incapability. We dismiss our opinions. We are quick to point out our flaws. We put out the idea to others and to ourselves that we aren’t worthy.

Generosity – Part 2

Yesterday I posted about Generosity and how it has been challenging me. Today, as I was checking a blog from one of my favorite author Donald Miller on his Storyline Blog. It was titled 'A Surprising Way to Become More Generous." I was intrigued. The post isn't actually written by Miller, but a guest contributor, Allison Vesterfelt. Upon reading her post, it described me and my heart towards generosity at times.

So instead of writing it myself, I re-post her blog for you to read. The original post can be found here.

A Surprising Way to Become More Generous

I used to think I was a generous person. Then, I met my husband.

Generosity – Part 1

I have tapped the keys of my keyboard here for several minutes, and I have spent many minutes, hours, days thinking over what I want to write here. The word generosity—the meaning it holds, the action it requires, the freedom and the pain it brings— has enraptured my thoughts of recent.

Generous/generosity is not an uncommon word though it may not be everyday we hear it spoken. Chances are, the meaning of it is not lost on you. But to clarify this is the meaning, taken from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

Generous

a : characterized by a noble or forbearing spirit
b : liberal in giving
c : marked by abundance or ample proportions

I’ve been in Encounter School of Mission, and we often talked about generosity of our time and our prayers. Our pastor has done a sermon series on generosity. I have been exposed to the generosity of others support for me to be in Northern Ireland. I hear it all around me.

Possibly a month ago, in my email, or Facebook newsfeed, I was alerted to an offer of an audiobook that could be downloaded. I saw it had ‘generous’ in the title, and I decided I needed to get it. Not only was generous in the title, but it read excessive generosity. What?!? Excessive? The book, More or Less: Choosing to Live a Lifestyle of Excessive Generosity written by Jeff Shinabarger is about a man’s exploration into generosity and how through many social experiments of his friends, his wife, and he himself found that we live in access and abundance. And in that excess we can change the world by being generous with it. I cannot recommend this book more. I listened to it in a day or two, and have played the chapters over and over again.

I am thinking that one post on generosity is not enough to get my thoughts out properly. If I tried, it would be a novel, so I’ll spare you and break it into bit size pieces. More or less, has challenged my thinking chapter by chapter. It breaks down what we think is ‘enough’ in areas of time, food, clothing, convenience. On more than one occasion, I was chomping at the bit to clear out my room, to give things away, to find where I have excess. And then seconds later, I see that I am in a place of need as well. I found a brokenness and weakness in me where I know I utterly depend on the generosity of others. Some of the levels of need recently have been more than I’ve ever experienced in life—that’s a painful reality.

There are a lot of things I have and want. There are a lot of things I have done. There are a lot places I've visited. There are many books I have read. There are many conveniences in my life. There are many friends in my life. I could keep going. For all that I have, there is an equal amount of what I have not. But all in all, there is abundance.

Out of my abundance, I am seeing opportunity for moments to change the world. Out of my need it shifts my perspective to understand those who’ve been in my place.

I can’t guarantee you’ll find a radical mind shift too towards generosity. Read this book. Listen to the sermon series. Or don’t. But I ask you to be willing to ask and be asked the question, where is there excess that you can live and give from?

Reminder

I found this posted here today and I felt it was another good reminder to me even today.