The Power of Vulnerability

Recently, a friend sent me a video to watch titled "The Power of Vulnerability," by researcher Brene Brown. My first reaction was, "Ok, here we go again."

The command to "be weak" has been a theme for me. You see I like to have everything under control and be strong for myself and those around me. However, a good friend and mentor told me my freshman year of college to "just be weak." She told me to stop fighting for survival and to let the Lord step in. I turned to this Scripture then and still do over and over again: "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:9-10. In the margin of my Bible this is written, "challenge: just be weak." I have struggled over and over again to be weak and to remember that Christ's grace is sufficient for me, and that through my weaknesses Christ's strength is shown.

This 20 minute talk by Brene Brown, was not from a Christian worldview, but it spoke to the very core of who I am. She first said that one of her professors in her social work program told her that in the social work field you have to, "lean into the discomfort of the work." The work being people's and even your own issues, the stuff that isn't pretty and that hurts.
 Brene said that connection is why we're here and what we all want, but shame and fear stand in the way of that all too often. She did 6 years of research and found there are people out there who do not live in fear and shame. They are what she calls "whole hearted" people. This is what they have in common:

• Courage - to tell the story of who they are, who they really are.
• Compassion - towards themselves and others
• Connection - with other people as a result of authenticity
• VULNERABILITY - they realize that what makes them vulnerable also makes them beautiful. They accept their story and the beauty of it.

I started thinking about my story and other people's story. I realized that there is nothing beautiful about our stories if Christ is not the hero, the one who steps in and saves the day. The one who offers rescue, restoration, and freedom. To allow Him to make us a new creation as 2 Corinthians 5:17 says, "the old has gone, the new has come!" Without Him, our stories are simply episodes of a reality show where we over and over again try to fix our own problems.

As I think of my own story and all the ways I've changed and grown, I recognize that every ounce of growth started with a seed of vulnerability, with myself, with others, and with the Lord. Vulnerability spurred me on and opened me up to allowing the Lord to rock my world and change my life and who I am.

Some of you know that the Lord has called me to international missions, and I am in the beginning stages of heading to the mission field. I am looking at opportunities to focus on mentoring and discipleship among youth and women. More than anything I want to teach those I'm with to be vulnerable with the Lord, the Creator and Perfecter of this world. I want to walk with them as they make themselves vulnerable to the Lord, to themselves, and to those around them. I have realized that we all have to be vulnerable to truly grow, no matter how much that scares us. 

I also mentor several girls in the youth group at my church, and try to pour into the lives of all the students in the ministry. My prayer for them is to be vulnerable, with themselves, with me, with the other girls in the group, with the youth group, and most importantly with the Lord. I want them to get it and to grow. To open themselves up to change and growth. To not sit and be stuck.

As I'm writing this I'm listening to Hillsong UNITED's new album Zion. The song Heartbeats is playing and the chorus stuck out to me as opening oneself up to being very vulnerable. It says:

I want You, need You

I love You Jesus
My heart beats forever
Just to know You
Let go and throw
My future into Your hands
Again

To say, "I want to 'Let go and throw my future in Your hands," is kind of a big deal, and kind of scary if I'm honest. It makes me vulnerable to the Lord and trusting that He will provide and take care of me. But that is my prayer for myself and for others, "Lord let me let go and throw my future into Your hands."

Hillsong UNITED's Heartbeats:

Watch Brene's talk:

Oh how I've grown up....

For those of you who do not know, I am in the process of applying to a mission organization, SIM, to spend two years or more in another country. Years ago the Lord put on my heart the desire to "preach the Gospel to all nations." This post isn't necessarily about my call to the mission field, but more about things I have learned, seen, and remembered through this process of applying to SIM, and I'm sure there will be more to come.

First of all I have aged. That may sound like an obvious statement, but sometimes i have to remind myself of that. I'm 23, not super old, but I'm no longer the 15 year old who went on her first mission trip and felt a tug on her heart. Nor am I the the 17 year old who went on another mission trip and started to grapple with what it looks like to fully surrender your life, and your future to the Lord. I am not the 18 year old high school graduate who set out for her first summer away from home, to serve with a youth mission camp. Or the 18/19 year old who started her first semester of college and found herself hitting rock bottom. And I am definitely not the 20 year old who had just unknowingly finished her last summer with the same camp. I'm not the same girl who walked across the stage to receive her college diploma when she was 21. Im not even the same girl who made stupid decisions just two weeks ago (not to say i will never make another dumb decision). Praise God He does not leave us in one place, but continues to grow us, change us, and mold us to look more like Him.

And while all this change sounds good and like a gift from God (which it was and still is), it was not always easy. In fact, I would say it was rarely easy. There we miserable days and sleepless nights. Nights of crying before the Lord, begging for His mercy and grace. Other nights of not even being able to utter a word. I walked around weighed down by guilt and shame. Feeling insecure, not really knowing "who" I was. I learned what it meant to truly have a repentant spirit, and that doesn't always feel good. I learned to forgive and not harbor bitterness within me. I learned to let go and move on. I learned to let loose and not be so serious. I never would have broken out into dance like I am known to do now.

I feel like so many people I looked up to and respected only knew me when I was so young in my faith, young in my healing process, and really just young period. In their mind I'm probably still the same teenager who was insecure, hadn't dealt with her past, didn't know how to handle her emotions, ended up hurting a lot of people around her.

I have the lyrics to Brandon Heath's song "I'm not who I was" running through my head. His lyrics that say,"I wish you could see me now I wish I could show you how I'm not who I was" are so often what I want to tell people. To tell those who caught me at my lowest and didn't understand why or how I could be acting the way I did. To tell those that I've lost communication with, "I'm not who I was."

But then there are those people who have stuck around to see the process. I'm so glad I have witnesses to this because some days I wouldn't believe it myself. There are days when I mess up and feel like I'm the same rock bottom teenager, and those people whether in person, through a note, via text or phone call remind me that I have grown up and I'm not who I was, and next week I won't be who I am today.
Thank you Jesus for the ways you transform my heart everyday to look more like Yours!

Home...

Recently I find myself thinking about home.... Where is home? What does it mean to have a home? And more questions like that.

My parents have just moved from our home for 18 years of my life. It's really the only home I know. This weekend I will be going to their new home. However, just because it is now their home, doesn't make it my home. The little brick ranch house on St. Andrews Church Road, will always be my childhood home. It will always be where I learned to ride a bike, drive a car, built tree houses, laughed with friends & family, and cried myself to sleep. Nothing can ever change that, it's where I grew up. Will I ever stop thinking of it as home? When I think of going "home" that's the place I think of.

So that's my childhood home, but where is home now? Suddenly my little apartment in Asheville has become home. It's where all my stuff is. It's where I go after work, sleep, and eat. It's where I'm comfortable, and can lounge around in my pajamas. It's where I enjoy the company of my roommate and friend, Sara. It's where our cat, Samson, curls up on my lap after a long day. What makes it home though? More than the walls or the roof over my head, I think it is the people who are in my life in this area. It's spending time with Sara and going on adventures. It's the security and comfort of friends and professors at Montreat. It's where friends have come to stay with me when they get back from Cambodia or Uganda. It's where I've spent time investing in the lives of students. This is where my church family is. My family at Grace, and my Bible Fellowship class, is a huge part of why this feels like home. It's my community that makes this home.

During my time at Montreat I really learned what it means to be a part of a community. Living in a dorm is not easy, serving as a Resident Assistant is even harder. I had to be available to invest in other people's lives, and also be vulnerable enough to let them invest in my life. I became part of a staff that walked through life together. Our RD, Michelle, poured into us as we poured into the girls on our halls. Tough questions were asked, tears were shed, and a lot of prayers were prayed. Some of the most stretching and beautiful relationships I had at Montreat where with Michelle and the RAs, specifically my RA partners. These are not people you can avoid when you're having a bad day. Your flaws are visible, and they are expected to call you out on the sin in your life. At times, letting people invest in my life and know the true me, was the very last thing I wanted to happen.

After being part of that community, I started to long for community in other parts of my life. I felt confident enough to be vulnerable and open with people at my church, which formed some incredible relationships that I have now. My Bible Fellowship class is a great example of community as we get together during the week to share life together, send texts to encourage or update one another, and most importantly, pray for each other.

It freaks me out a little to think about the next place I may go, and try to make home. I know the Lord has called me to international missions, but I don't know where or exactly when yet. It is scary to think about leaving this home. And not just WNC, but my friends all around the US. How will I keep in touch with everyone? Will the people I love forget about me? Will I have to meet friends' fiances through skype? Or not be there to give them a hug when they are really struggling or having a rough day, week, month, year? It kills me to think about leaving everyone that I love. To possibly miss out on the last years of my grandparents' lives, or the new phase of my parents' lives. I don't want to be forgotten, or lose touch with such special people. I know wherever I go will eventually feel like home and I will meet knew people who love me and support me (although that doesn't mean I'll forget or lose the old). As much as I love my friends and family, and want to be with them, I love my God even more and want to be where He wants me. Even if that means leaving home and going to unknown places.

So, I've decided that home is where I can be open and honest, without fear of judgement or being hurt. My parent's new home will be home, because with them I can be me, without any hesitations. Asheville/Montreat/Marion area is home because I have people who love and support me no matter what. People who will laugh and cry with me. I have community and homes all around the country and even different parts of the world, because people I love and trust have been called by God to live and minister in different places (I have the coolest friends). I know the next place can be home as well because I plan to have a community around me. I am reminded of how important the body of Christ is. No wonder Paul wrote so many letters to the church.

Why eat organic?

This is a question I ask myself everyday, possibly multiple times a day. Let me give a little background to why I am asking this question all the time. I am the manager of a coffee shop/cafe. The other half of our business is a gourmet market. Now I live  and work in the mountains of North Carolina, also known as hippie region. We carry a lot of organic products. However, I typically do not go a day without having to listen to a customer pitch a fit about something not being organic, even though a good 80% of what we carry is organic. Something may even be technically organic, with no hormones, but it does not have the USDA label so it is not good enough for them. Does eating organic cause grown women to act like 2 year olds, because if it does I want nothing to do with it?

 Why do people insist on eating organic? What is their reasoning? I know some people legitimately do it for health reasons. Parents do not want to pump their kids full of hormones. No one wants their 7 year old daughter to look like a full grown woman. Let me go ahead and say that I have no problem with eating organic, and especially no problem with fair trade. I myself eat organic products from time to time, and like for my coffee to be fair trade. I really do not have a problem with it if it's being done for health purposes. But let me tell you, one non USDA approved turkey sandwich will not kill you.

Does eating organic make one person better than the other? How many times have I heard, "Well I can't drink the milk you drink because it is not organic." Really??? I'm still alive and kickin' so it won't hurt you to have one latte without organic milk. I think being a organic eater or a local buyer has become something to be proud of, especially in my area. Do we really do it to because it's something we believe in, or are we following fads? 99% of the groceries I buy are not organic; so does that make me an "unhealthy" person.

Let me ask you this, do you think you have the "right" to eat organic? Ok so maybe you do. Are you entitled to it? No, you're not it's a blessing that you have that option.

According to the United States Census Bureau, "In 2010, 46.2 million people were in poverty, up from 43.6 million in 2009—the fourth consecutive annual increase in the number of people in poverty." It has probably increased since then, but that means that 46.2 million people cannot afford to eat organic. What makes you deserve organic food more than them?

Let's think globally here for a few minutes. What about the orphan in Haiti, who doesn't even know what the word organic means? Does he have the right to eat organic? He is very unhealthy, gets very few nutrients, has no mom to cook for him, yet fully enjoys the half of non organic pb&j sandwich he is offered.

Or the little girl in Asia who is forced to service men 8 times a day to "earn" her food. If she works a little harder, does she then have the right to eat organic?

Why don't we as Americans just ship all of our non organic food to other countries? Just think of all the kids who would so much healthier, their tummies would be full of food instead of empty and bloated.

Now I can't stereotype organic eaters and I know I am being very blunt. You may eat organic, but give to charity, or work with the orphans and the hungry. That's awesome. Praise God that He has blessed you to be able to eat organic food and help others.

I mainly just want to call attention to patterns I am noticing, and suggestions for making everyone's lives a lot more pleasant.

• The organic eater is not better than the single mom who does all she can to be able to buy non organic sustenance for her children.
• It will not kill a person to eat one meal that is not organic.
• If you go to a place of business and they do not have organic items, leave instead of complaining to the poor innocent employee who probably can't afford to buy organic food herself.
• You are not entitled to organic food, you are blessed to have that option.
• Think of those who do without food altogether.
• As believers, Jesus tells us to feed those who are hungry, and cloth those who are naked, for when we do this we are feeding and clothing Him.

Friends Part 2

This is the last week of college for most of my friends. In just a couple days it will be one full year since I graduated from Montreat. It really seems like it was forever ago. This week will be full of celebrating with friends and putting off saying good bye to those who are near and dear to my heart.

Recently I have been reminded of the many beautiful friendships the Lord has blessed me with. Those who are here in NC, but not limited to NC. Friends in Florida, Tennessee, Haiti, Georgia, Boston(well soon) and many many other places.

I love how the Lord puts people in your path to go through life with you. We may not still work at the same camp, go to the same school, or live in the same town, but a quick message can be sent to encourage someone and make a friend's day a little bit better. I love being able to sit and share our hearts with one another, whether we're in the same room or talking on skype. We are here to spur one another on towards love and good deeds. It makes me smile when I see friendships who actually do that. Sisters, who sit and listen to all the struggles that have taken place over the past year. It's so cool when a word doesn't have to be uttered  but knowing looks are shared and smiles grace each other's faces. When you haven't talked in weeks or months, but you can send a quick text that says, "Pray for me," and you know that is exactly what they'll do. Or a friend that you see every day and the craziness of life can get in the way, but you're called into the room and they say, "I just wanted to say, I love you." Oh how it warms my heart.

It is so good for us to remind one another that we love each other. Does the Lord not use friendships to love us? That's not the only way, but I know He blesses me over and over again through my sisters.

So to all my friends who are graduating or have graduated, "Congrats, you made it and I am so proud of you. I'm so glad I have been able to walk through this season with you."

To ALL my friends everywhere, "I love you and I so glad to be able to walk through life with you, whether I talk to you every day or we haven't talked in a while."

It is such a priviledge to be able to do life with one another. Let us not take it for granted. As spring turns to summer we all enter into new phases of life, or at least a new season :) But as life around us changes, let us not forget that it is the Lord who put us in one another's lives for a reason. I am sure He will continue to use us in each other's lives. HE is so good and faithful, even when we are not.

Little girl...

So I am sitting in a coffee shop, and  writing in my journal. In fact I was writing prayers. The guy sitting across from me asked if I was writing poetry. To which I responded, "No, but I do write some poetry, but this is just some thoughts."

After saying this a phrase popped into my head, "Little girl." My mind was flooded with pictures of little girls in the sex trade. What would I say to them once they were rescued? How could I even say anything? From that thought process I wrote down this. I have not editted this or anything. These are simply words that flowed from my head.

Little girl

Go ahead and cry

Cry out to your Father

Cry out against the men who are hurting you

Cry out to the people who have not rescued you yet

Little girl

It is ok to cry

You are not weak

You are stronger than I will ever be

You have a Father who is stronger than you

Little girl

Let the tears flow

I have a shoulder for you to cry on

I will hold you tight

He will protect you from the bad guys

Little girl

You do not deserve this

You have done nothing wrong

You are no longer a slave

Little girl

This is what freedom is like

Freedom means you can speak your mind

You can ask questions

You can yell

You can laugh

You can cry tears of joy

Or tears burning with a righteous anger

Little girl

It’s ok to cry

You are loved more than you can ever imagine

By the God of the universe

He will wipe away your every tear

Let the little children come

“They remember me, they really remember me.” This is what ran through my head as I sat on the hot dusty ground, while little Haitian children crawled over me, leaned against me, and climbed on my back. That day was my second time to this clinic in Tapio, Haiti, but it was nearly 4 months since that first trip when I became friends with these little boys. I had not learned their names, because we spoke different languages, and they did not seem to understand the little bit of Creole I had learned. I still do not know their names, but it is their beautiful smiles and faces, that have stayed in my mind and on my bedroom wall.

It was late in the afternoon when I decided to take a break from my triage station. I spotted some kids hanging out below a tree, and I wandered over to “talk” to them for a little bit. When you speak different languages talking with kids consists of a lot of smiles, high fives, and great big hugs. The little boys mentioned above came down to where I was a couple minutes later. The first one came up and slowly started to recognize me. We hugged, and took a couple pictures. Then the second boy (I should really come up with names for them) came halfway down the hill we were on. Once he got within eyeshot of me, he came running down the hill as fast as his little feet would carry him. He grinned from ear to ear, and as soon as he was close enough he jumped into my arms, almost losing his pants that were too big for him. I held him tight to me, and my eyes filled with tears. These were the boys I had been hoping I would see. The boys I had thought about every day since I left Haiti in September, and the boys I had prayed for and wished I could have taken them home with me.

We eventually sat down and played on the dusty ground, like I’ve already mentioned above. One of the older boys grabbed one of “my” boys’ head and shoved his scalp in my face. He was trying to show me the scabs that were on the child’s head. I realized that they thought I was a doctor. The older boys started to laugh at the expense of this little one. He looked up at me, and shame seemed to fill his eyes. I had no words to say, but just pulled him close to me and held him for a little bit. He pulled away from me and the biggest smile graced his face. At that point I’m pretty sure that he knew that I didn’t care whether he had scabies or some other infection. I was still willing to hold him and love on him. More than anything I hope those boys went to sleep that night, wherever they sleep, knowing that I love them. Maybe they replayed the scene in their head over and over again before they fell asleep; I know that’s what I did. I went to sleep that night, praying for them, asking God to protect them and to hold them close to them. My prayer is that they come to know the saving grace of Jesus, and that they grow up to be strong young men seeking to serve the Lord.

"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

First one to get to me

One in the stripped shirt was the second of the two I had met last time.

After he had jumped in my arms

The little one who had scabs on his head

On my lap