Take Me Deeper

Last year around this time, I was sitting in the sanctuary of Son Life Church for its Fall Conference. And I was so broken. A few different things had happened over the weekend that left me feeling abandoned and alone, and in that I identified my biggest fear: isolation.

Over the course of the next few months, I opened myself up for counseling with a friend that somehow seemed to deepen that fear. I was raw, exposed, and unsure of how to let God fix what felt so painful. My mind knew what the Bible said: that God was enough. But my flesh yearned for people to fill those empty places.

A few days ago, I read a teen fantasy novel called The Siren by Kiera Cass. It's based on the mythology of the sirens, the beautiful, dangerous sea women who sang sailors to their deaths. There's nothing about its premise that screams out Christianity, and yet, I found God so many times in its pages.

The main character, Kahlen, is a siren who longs for pure love. She pours herself out for her sisters and wants to only experience the true love and affection from an intimate relationship someday when her sentence as a siren is complete. In an early part of the book, Kahlen knows she must leave her sisters (her only human companions) for a few weeks to let them sort some things out. She describes herself as hating "being alone. It went against my very makeup to be by myself for more than a few hours. I needed people. And I needed people to need me."

Those sentences resonated with me so greatly. In fact, when Kahlen leaves again later to express some of her anger towards the ocean, I was terrified with her of the coming isolation. But as Kahlen opens up to the ocean, she discovers a communion and companionship with this life-giver that she never knew was available to her before. If anyone had told her this relationship existed, she wouldn't have believed it, but "here I was, aching to be in the Ocean, to not be separated from Her ever. Because She loved me like a cherished daughter."

As soon as Kahlen understands this love, she spends a year communing with the ocean. She lives in the water, completely at rest in this new relationship.

This was such a God picture to me. He longs for us, like the ocean longed for Kahlen. He can meet every need, desire, longing that is within us. He can give us complete rest and peace. While I know those things exist, I'm sure I haven't experienced them in their fullness.

And so Friday night, I was lying in bed, thinking of resting in God and of this beautiful ocean picture, listening to iTunes radio, when a song came on that I had somehow never heard before. It was "Oceans" by Hillsong United. The lyrics touched my heart immediately.

You call me out upon the waters

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find You in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

I will call upon Your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise my soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand

Will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed and You won't start now

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 will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

What a beautiful love song from Heaven for me in that moment. It's been playing non-stop on my phone ever since. It's a nine minute song, so on my sixty minute commute to and from church this morning, I was able to listen to it almost seven times at top volume. 

Then it hit me. As I prepare for this year's Fall Conference at church next weekend, this is the longing in my heart--to find this complete rest in His embrace. I'm looking forward to three full days without any responsibility except for communing with God. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump into the ocean, into God's waiting arms. There're desires and longings building up inside me, and I'm ready for the release into the proper place. Yes, my closest friends will be there. But this year, their company isn't my greatest desire. God's is. 

What a difference a year makes. 

A Cry for Justice

Sometimes, God lays on our hearts a cry for justice. My friend Ginger Coakley works for Set Free, which is a grassroots movement to abolish modern-day slavery. You may have read her guest post on my blog back in May. If you’ve ever talked to Ginger, you know that she is passionate about seeing people around the world freed from the bondage of oppression.

This summer, I began reading everything I could get my hands on that was written by Jen Hatmaker. Her books shook my world and spoke my heart. She is crying out for those in poverty, for the ones wracked by homelessness and hunger in her city of Austin, Texas.

Last year, I had the privilege of hearing Jim Anderson speak. His mission is to uncover the sexual assault on our modern-day culture and see people freed from the chains of sexual sin.

All of these causes make my heart ache. Why must they exist? For one simple reason: we live in a world that is affected by sin, oppressed by darkness, and temporarily in the hands of the one who seeks to steal, kill, and destroy.

And yet, this isn’t a hopeless case. In fact, the solution is quite clear. In fact, we, the church, are given basic instructions throughout the Bible, which can be nicely summarized in this verse from Isaiah: “Learn to do right. Seek justice. Encourage the oppressed. Speak up for the fatherless. Plead the case of the widow" (1:17).

We are the answer. Not because the church has it all together or because we’ve been elevated to some higher perfection. Not even a little bit. But we are the answer because within us is the Holy Spirit. We have the power of the living, loving, perfect, holy God living inside of us, and we have been given the responsibility to unleash that power into the darkness.

What’s the cry in my heart? Young girls enslaved by the notion that they have to be exactly who society says they should be: perfect, skinny, sexual, independent.

I have a five-year-old daughter. In five to six years, I’m going to see her struggle with the injustice of societal expectations on her body, her personality, and her relationships. I cannot allow that to happen. At all cost, I will protect her from those assaults, from the manufacturers that tell her she’s not good enough unless she buys this; the media that says she’s not good enough unless she looks like this; the peers that tell her she’s not good enough unless she acts like this.

The desires that every girl has to belong, to be loved, to be beautiful? Those are good. Those are natural. And there’s a proper way to fill those longings—through the affirmations of the natural father and the Heavenly Father.

I know at this point I sound like a broken record, but this is why I believe so much in the Shine Movement. We’re not just about a two-day conference. We’re not even just about teaching girls how to be performers that “stay away from bad things.”

We’re about bringing the injustices of our societal expectations against girls to light.

We are aiming to shift culture and teach girls to shine in the way they were created.

We are a movement.

Forming a Tribe

A few days ago, I was placing my fifth and sixth graders in groups, when I noticed something disturbing. In several instances, as soon as I announced the partnership, there was eye-rolling, heavy sighing, and once, even a muttered, "Oh, great."

This was NOT okay with me. I have eleven students in my class, four boys and seven girls. If there was division this early in a school year, how are we going to make it through the year? And so we had what I like to call a "family chat."

We had just learned in history about different types of governmental systems, so I decided to compare our class to a tribe. The definition of a tribe is: "a social division in a traditional society consisting of families or communities linked by social, economic, religious, or blood ties, with a common culture and dialect, typically having a recognized leader."

I explained to my precious kiddos that they were a tribe. The eleven of them? They gotta stick together. We talked practically about what this might look like. "If I assign partners, you act enthusiastic about whomever you're with!" "If Chris drops his books in the hall, you all help him pick them up!" "If you hear anyone making fun of your classmates, you stick up for them!" We have to have each other's back.

The next time I assigned partners? Bliss. Kids were smiling. They were enthusiastic. I don't even care that some of them were probably pretending. Eventually, their actions will influence their mindsets, and these kids will be genuine in their care for each other. We are a tribe.

Women, isn't this how we should all be with each other? From the baby girl in my sister-in-law's womb to the great-grandmas pushing 100, shouldn't we be a tribe together?

I read a blog today that said we, as society, have failed Miley Cyrus. I agree. She's making poor choices, but the women in our society have failed to surround one another with love, encouragement, and support. Instead, we are critical and condescending. We roll our eyes at each other. We gossip. We spread rumors based on jealousy. And we wonder why little girls, like these former Disney stars, are growing up to make the choices that they are making.

This new adventure I'm on, Shine Movement, is about forming the tribe that should already exist. The target for the conference is tween girls, but in reality, the movement is multi-generational. We want older teens that will come alongside the younger girls and show them what it means to walk in light. We want moms, aunts, grandmas,sisters, teachers, neighbors, and youth leaders to partner with us so that we can guide the next generation in godliness. Little girls need to be told they are beautiful, but not for beauty's sake. They need to know that their beauty comes from being made in the image of their Creator, that their worth is based on the price He paid for us.

Let's come together, ladies. Let's have each other's back. Let's form a tribe.

The Shine Movement

I've talked a lot about the Start Experiment on here, but I've intentionally never mentioned what risk I am taking. The main reason for that is that it's not MY risk. I believe God has used this past month to link me into someone else's risk so that I could help them start.

When I first read Jon Acuff's email about the Start Experiment Facebook group, I immediately asked my friend Deedra if she wanted to be a part of it. I knew she was sitting on some great ideas, and maybe this would be a catalyst to help her launch one of them. One that she was passionate about was a musical that had been floating in her brain for awhile. I figured Start would help her get that off the ground.

I had no idea what I wanted to start. (I'll point out that now I've got about a hundred ideas of things I want to start this year, as I wrote in my last blog.) But a month ago, nothing. In fact, when we were told to write our risks on a Start survey, I wrote the most vague thing I could possibly come up with. It was something about teens and God and writing. It made zero sense.

A few days later, I was talking to Deedra, and I asked her if she wrote about her musical. And she told me no. She said she had decided she wanted to pursue the Shine Conference idea that she'd had a couple years ago, and then she asked if I would want to help by writing curriculum, blogging about it, and making contacts to launch it.

Well, hey. That's about teens. And God. And writing.
I'm in.

There will be lots more information about Shine to come VERY soon. In fact, today we filmed footage for our indiegogo.com video to gain support by crowdfunding. A twitter account was just created (@shinemovement1), and a Facebook page and website will be up and running next week.

In a nutshell, Shine is more than a conference. So we're calling the overarching idea the Shine Movement. It's about teaching young girls to shine by instilling in them values such as purity, godliness, modesty, inner beauty, and confidence. It's about teaching them to connect with the One who created all light. And it will provide an outlet to shine by teaching them about dance and choreography through a two-day event.

Definitely not a finished logo. I'm not an artist.

God has been bringing so many details together. In fact, we're meeting with a Christian recording artist this weekend to talk about bringing her on board for the Shine tour. I'm amazed at all the little connections that have been made, and I'm grateful for the support of my new #startexp friends as this gets going.

How can you help? First, by following us on Twitter. That will keep you connected as different elements are set in place. Next, by putting aside a little money for our first crowdfunding campaign on indiegogo.com. We'll let you know as soon as that's ready to go. Third, by volunteering at one of our events if we come to your area. We are starting with a trial event in November about an hour east of St. Louis. Fourth, by simply sharing this blog post on Facebook, Twitter, or by email. We need to create some buzz. And finally, but most importantly, by joining with us in prayer. We don't want Shine to touch girls for simply a weekend; we want God to move in the girls' hearts so that they are equipped to live a life that shines for Him. We are His servants as we move forward in this endeavor.

Year of Starting: A Response to Jon Acuff and Jen Hatmaker

Although the calendar may say that a new year begins on January 1 and ends on December 31, I know better. See, I'm a teacher. I measure my years from August to August. And in the last few years, the measurements have been very distinct and informative. 

In August of 2011, I attended Jesus Culture Awakening in Chicago. That sparked what I now call the Year of Fire. I was solely focused on learning about the Holy Spirit and teaching others to enter into His presence. The year was exciting and scary and new and amazing. 

In August of 2012, I was returning from a missions trip to Belize that taught me about depending on Jesus when I had no one else. I would call this past year a Year of Discipleship. I went through an intense time of letting God uncover my hurts, fears, insecurities, and sins. It was hard and scary and awful and sad and good, ending with my miscarriage and a sweet time of closeness with my Savior.

As August of 2013 approaches, I already know what the label will be. This is a Year of Starting. Because of the Start Experiment, God has already been showing me ways that I can "punch fear in the face" and embark on different journeys in which He has called me. 

I've already STARTed a project with a friend, one that we hope will continue for many, many years. God has been helping us network and has opened many doors for this dream to be realized. But I believe that this is just the beginning. 

Along with Jon Acuff's book, Start, I recently read Jen Hatmaker's book, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.  

Best friends already!

You guys. I cannot stress to you how lovely Jen Hatmaker is. She's witty and poignant and sincere and inspiring. I honestly believe that she and I could be besties, and based on the fact that she tweeted me back the other day, I think she probably believes it, too. 

Ironically, I've met Jen's husband Brandon. In February of 2011, Brandon spoke at a young adult conference for the Free Methodist Church's Gateway Conference. Much of what he discusses was about reaching out, helping the poor, and taking the Jesus of the gospels seriously. Jesus said to feed the poor? Let's go do that. Jesus said to give out water in His name? Let's go do that. Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself? Let's go do that. 

Brandon & Jen Hatmaker

I have to be honest. For me at that time, it wasn't the most appealing of talks. It didn't seem like anything that could become me-focused. And I wasn't ready to care about others like that. See, I hadn't yet experienced the Year of Fire or the Year of Discipleship, so I wasn't ready to embark on the Year of Starting. But now, Jen and Brandon have a heart for others that is speaking to me. This book, 7, screamed my heart. 

A quick summary from Barnes and Noble, so that you can track with me: 

7 is the true story of how Jen (along with her husband and her children to varying degrees) took seven months, identified seven areas of excess, and made seven simple choices to fight back against the modern-day diseases of greed, materialism, and overindulgence.

Food. Clothes. Spending. Media. Possessions. Waste. Stress. They would spend thirty days on each topic, boiling it down to the number seven. Only eat seven foods, wear seven articles of clothing, and spend money in seven places. Eliminate use of seven media types, give away seven things each day for one month, adopt seven green habits, and observe “seven sacred pauses.” So, what’s the payoff from living a deeply reduced life? It’s the discovery of a greatly increased God—a call toward Christ-like simplicity and generosity that transcends social experiment to become a radically better existence.

Not only is Jen hilarious throughout (ex: "I'm not an accomplished thrift shopper, meaning I never thrift shop. I'm easily overwhelmed in a regular store organized by genre, color, and price point, so throw a little chaos and fifty crammed racks together, and I might start maniacally humming and hitting myself in the head"), but she seamlessly weaves her faith and convictions in this journal. 

And what happens when you combine Start with 7 at the beginning of a school year? A new goal. A hunger to be awesome in helping others. There are so many ideas running through my head: setting up a storage for old clothes in my school so that we can help families in need; planting a community garden on my school grounds that my students will cultivate; partnering my students with a missions organization to raise money and send aid. 

I can't wait to see what God tells me to START next. 

It's gonna be a good year.

Trades of Hope Giveaway: Raising Awareness with Scarves

For the past decade, I've volunteered with the high school youth ministry that meant so much to me when I was a teenager. It's an amazing group with one of the most dedicated and godly youth pastors I've ever met. In the fourteen or so years that I've been involved in directly, the group has traveled on about five different missions trips, including four to foreign countries in central America and Europe. Under the leadership of Greg Groves, the Greenville Free Methodist Youth (FMY) has learned how to minister and care for others, especially those less fortunate.

About eight years ago, Greg taught a lot on social justice. We studied about the International Justice Mission (IJM) in particular. IJM is a human-rights agency that works to rescue people out of sex trafficking and slavery. Greg challenged the group to raise funds to send to IJM to help with a rescue. Our teens voted and decided they would raise $5000 that year. Greg was skeptical that they could; at the time, the group had about 60 regular attenders, and that seemed like a steep number for a group that size. But the kids were insistent, and Greg felt bad for trying to squelch their drive, so he let them go. Those teens amazed me. They set up a program at the high school called Loose Change to Loosen Chains (LC2LC) and placed buckets in every classroom and the lunchroom. Between that and other fundraising efforts, the FMY raised more than the $5000 they had pledged. We were pumped that our small efforts were going to help a girl in Asia make her way out of forced prostitution and be equipped to live a healthy life. 

Since learning about IJM and the very real dangers of modern-day slavery and sex trafficking, I met a man who runs a Free Methodist organization called The Set Free Movement. They call themselves abolitionists who promote faith-based change locally and around the world where slavery and forced prostitution are rampant. My friend Ginger Coakley wrote a guest blog on here recently about the work that she does with Set Free.

Women from Nepal, one of the poorest countries in the world

And now, because of my involvement with the Start Experiment, I've learned about another social justice organization called Trades of Hope. Through a mutual friend, I've learned about Stephanie Erickson. She's a compassion entrepreneur (CE) for Trades of Hope, which she explains is an organization that "supports ministries worldwide who teach women in extreme poverty and/or high risk sex trafficking areas how to run a sustainable business by making handcrafted items." 

Trades of Hope pays six times the amount when they purchase the handcrafted items, and they turn around and sell it here, partly to continue the business to support the artisans and partly to raise awareness about TOH and the artisans they support. You can learn more through the website: http://mytradesofhope.com/stephanieerickson70

Right now, TOH is offering a special giveaway through bloggers, and Stephanie has graciously given me the opportunity to be a part of it. The prize? A handcrafted scarf made in Nepal by local artisans who are benefiting from Trades of Hope's mission.

Contest ends on Wednesday, July 17.

Want to win? Here's what you have to do:

1. "Like" Stephanie's TOH Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/stephanieericksonfortradesofhope. 

2. Share this blog post on your Facebook or twitter accounts. 

3. Become a follower of my blog (there's a button to click to the right of the screen).

4. Leave a comment on this post telling me which numbers you completed. 

If you complete all four, your name will be entered into the drawing four times. 

Best of luck to you, and thanks for supporting social justice around the world!

The Jesus Juke Has Messed Me Up (Sorry, Jon Acuff)

If you've been around me in the past few years, you'd know that I'm a big Jon Acuff fan. I know I mentioned him a few blogs ago when I talked about the Start Experiment. He's not just the Start and Quitter guy; he also is the genius behind the most amazing blog and book of all time: Stuff Christians Like (SCL). This book is such a great satire of Christianity by a Christian for Christians.

I first learned about SCL from Sarah Groves. She was reading excerpts of it (I specifically remember hearing about the metro-sexual worship leader) on an FMY bus ride. It was great. After that, I became a blog follower and eventually purchased the book. Although I didn't have the opportunity to hear him speak at Greenville College a few years ago, I've been actively stalking following Jon on all forms of social media.

I regularly read SCL posts aloud to my students. As kids who grew up in the church and a Christian school, they can appreciate the satire. One of my favorite posts is about the Jesus Juke. You have to read the post to get the full appreciation for it, but in Jon's words, "the Jesus Juke is when someone takes what is clearly a joke filled conversation and completely reverses direction into something serious and holy."

We all know what he's talking about. We've all had it happen to us.
Example: the pastor who says to his congregation on Super Bowl Sunday, "I wish you had the passion for Jesus that you have about today's game."
Example: a student says, "I can't find my keys!" and her teacher replies, "You only need the keys to the Kingdom!"

(The top is hypothetical. The bottom really happened, and it still makes me giggle. I only wish I'd been that teacher...)

However, I'm nervous that I've gotten too sensitive to it. It's become today's snarky equivalent of the "Sunday School answer." When Dora the Explorer asks my four-year-old, "Who do we ask for help when we don't know which way to go?" I always shout, "Jesus!" And Jorie's all, "No, Mom. The talking map. Duh." And I try to turn it into some spiritual discussion about how talking maps don't really exist (except I realized they invented them in the form of the GPS, but she's four and I'm not getting quite that in depth here), but we always have Jesus and the Holy Spirit to ask when we feel lost or alone. And then she's like, "Yeah, but Dora uses a talking map." And she wins the discussion.

But even though that's a half jokey juke, it's a real lesson I want to teach my daughter. And she's too young to catch ALL the sarcasm that I have to offer, so I can still make those legitimate discussions. But what about when I'm talking to my high school classes at a Christian school? When a student asks my advice about something, if I tell them they need to seek God, they're like, "Nice Jesus Juke!" And I'm like..."but I'm serious"... and then I facepalm.

Even on the Start Experiment board (mostly Christians, fans of Acuff, people ready to change the world), I've seen lots of comments about God and someone calling it a Jesus Juke. Can we not talk about our faith issues, questions, struggles, truths, and answers without someone calling it a juke?

Let's not let truth become the Sunday School answer. Let's not let fear of the juke keep us from speaking truth.

Did I just Jesus Juke the Jesus Juke?

Finish What You Start

Usually when I blog, I title it when I'm finished writing. I like to pick out a poignant phrase or concise sum-up of my post and then tack it on to the top. This time, I started with the title, mostly as a reminder to me to FINISH WRITING WHAT I'VE STARTED.

It's hard to focus because Facebook keeps making dumb little noises telling me I have a notification on something I probably care nothing about, but every time it dings I check it like I'm Pavlov's dog. I know, I know. Close down the browser. That seems simple. Not gonna happen.

The theme of this post came to me last week as I was trying to fall asleep, but it's taken me this long to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, if you will). Hey, look. Another obvious reason for the title. These thoughts started that long ago, but now I'm finally getting around to it. (Maybe. I'd like to point out that I'm already three paragraphs in and haven't even mentioned where I'm going. Horrible journalistic skills. [And also, did anyone else have a crazy English teacher mom who used to have a circle labeled TUIT hanging on the wall? You know...a round TUIT. Around to it. OMG. This blog will never get written.])

Here goes. A few years ago, my pastor, during a rare altar call, asked anyone to come forward to wanted to be anointed with oil for a specific evangelistic purpose. (I think. Maybe.) I went forward, and I remembered telling my pastor and his wife that I felt a call on my life for nominal Christians. That is, people who call themselves Christians because they 1. attend church 2. give money and 3. do good works. Other characteristics may include answering an altar call as a child or occasionally reading the Bible and/or praying.

I was a Christian in name only for most of my growing-up years. I was baptized when I was nine, but I don't remember having a relationship with Jesus or inviting Him to be King of my life until I was a freshman in high school. I'd consider the next decade tumultuous at best in terms of that relationship, but it was genuine, if misguided at times. But during that childhood time, if you had asked me if I was a Christian, I would have responded with, "Of course. I go to church twice a week. I was baptized, even." But I wasn't a Christian. Not in terms of surrender. Not in terms of dependence. Not in terms of Jesus being my Lord. Actually, to get really picky, if those are the qualifications (and I'm not claiming to know them), maybe I was a nominal Christian until I was about 24. Hmm. Interesting.

Now I teach at a Christian school. And I see lots of kids who call themselves Christian because they go to church. Or because they attend a Christian school. Or because their moms and dads are. Or because they know tons of Bible trivia. But if you walk down the halls of my school, you'd think it was any other public school, except with fewer students and more khaki pants. These students listen to the same music as anyone else. They spend their time like all other teenagers. They use words like everyone else and talk about the same stuff the world does. (These are sweeping generalizations. I don't mean EVERY student is like this ALL the time. But I would claim that it's a majority of the students, a majority of the time.)

Teenagers aren't the only people who are under a misunderstanding of what it means to be a Christian. Plenty of adults are, too. Like I said, perhaps that was me. I think sometimes we are ignorant of our own spiritual state. In fact, Jesus, in Matthew 7:21-23 says, "Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’" (NIV)

Does that scare anyone else? Could those of us who call ourselves Christians, who perhaps even practice the facets of Christianity and the gifts of the Holy Spirit, really be denied heaven because Jesus NEVER KNEW US? That's what it says. And hey. Wake-up call. Are we pursuing Jesus, or are we pursuing works? Are we promoting Jesus, or are we promoting ourselves?

Why start down the road of Christianity if we're not going to finish it with a relationship with Jesus?

There's another group, too, included in this. And perhaps it's a fine line between the nominal Christians and the saved-only Christians. The saved-only Christians (label based on a quote by Bill Johnson that says, "Many people repent enough to get saved but not enough to see the kingdom") have come into the knowledge of who Christ is but aren't concerned with anything but their eternal salvation. If the first group is more about works and lacks the grace of a saving relationship, then this second group receives the grace but refuses the works that accompany a lifestyle of following Jesus. 

There should be a balance of works and faith. I think that's what the whole book of James is professing. We cannot be saved by works, but faith without works is dead. If we only turned to Jesus for fire insurance, for an escape from Hell, then we're missing our calling as Christians. The word Christian literally means little Christ. If we claim that label, then we should be striving to live like Him. Total surrender. Total reliance. Total dependence. Total DEATH to His own agenda. Jesus only did what He saw the Father doing. Our job is to bring the kingdom of heaven to earth, not to waste our days on earth doing what we want in the hopes of reaching the kingdom of heaven after we die. 

I'm done excusing my sin with the knowledge of grace. Yes, His grace covers all. But repentance is about more than asking forgiveness and moving on my merry way. It's about turning in the opposite direction and moving on His merry way. I want my life to follow Jesus. I want my heart molded in His loving hands. I want to do whatever it is He asks me to do in order to bring His kingdom here. 

I started the journey of being a Christian when I asked Jesus to forgive me. But I want to finish when I turn from my own ways and follow Him in everything He asks of me.

A Dream, A Purpose

A few days ago, I was on Instagram, and I saw this post by Jon Acuff. (If you don't know who he is, you're living under a rock. And also, you should really find out who he is, because he's stinkin' hilarious and also really smart and a Christian.)

I was intrigued. I had no idea what he had posted, but I wanted to find out. When I went to his blog, I saw another post that simply said that if you were up for an adventure, email your name. address, and phone number to Jon. I was standing in the halls of CCA while Jorie was in VBS, and I quickly went into my email, filled it out, and then I... hesitated. What kind of adventure? What would this entail? I hadn't even read his latest book, Start, yet, so maybe I wasn't even qualified for this journey. But I felt a strange nudging from the Lord, so I sent it.

And then I forgot about it. Hey, it's been a busy week. That was four days ago, and since then I've driven to Collinsville six times, ran errands in Fairview, inventoried books, finished a yearbook, and started planning Jorie's birthday party. Jon who?

And then yesterday, I received an email back. It simply said, "The adventure is a go! Join this secret Facebook group to get the details." And anytime Jon Acuff emails you, you don't say no. Without giving too much of the secret away, here is what's happening, in Jon's words:

Welcome to the Start Experiment. 

Do you know what fear, fears?

Fear fears community.

Fear always tries to isolate you and put you on an island as if you’re the only one on the planet bumping into challenges. 

But how do you build community in a rapidly disconnecting culture?

That is the question the Start Experiment seeks to answer.

And it starts with an adventure. 

We’re picking teams of 24 people to risk 1 new thing individually for 24 days.

The group goes on to explain the logistics of it. And in the 24 hours since I've joined, people (there are 675 in the group so far) have been introducing themselves and connecting with others. I've already met another GC alum and someone else from the StL. There are college students looking to begin life even before graduation; there are people in their 50s and 60s looking to rectify regrets. And there are those of us in the middle who are ready for God to shake things up. 

I'm reading Start now. It's great. You should read it, too. And it's got me thinking. I'm a wife, a mom, a teacher, a friend. But am I average, or am I awesome at those things? Are there unfulfilled dreams in my life? Is there a purpose I haven't yet grasped? 

So to think aloud, here is what brings me absolute contentment, in no particular order (excluding relationships): reading, writing, music, and learning about the Holy Spirit and its power. 

I haven't defined any dreams. I don't know if I want to build an orphanage in Haiti or travel the country as a Christian speaker. Do I want to write a best-selling book or dig wells in Africa? Do I want to travel with missions teams to Indonesia or market Christian singers? What is my purpose? What's a dream that I've been too scared to start? 

I'm not sure. But I think that by embarking on this challenge, I'll get closer to discovering all that God has in store for me. I'm ready to live with purpose, even before I've defined it. In the roles already defined in my life, I want to be awesome.

What are your unfulfilled dreams?

Strangely Dim

There are a lot of things I could be freaking out about right now. First of all, it's summer. That means I don't get my regular paycheck from CCA, so money is always a bit of an issue during this season. Second, trying to sell a house is superduper stressful and hey, guess what? It costs money. Third, I'm about a week and a half behind on my yearbook, because that's how I roll with stress (I ignore it), and I'm hoping they continue to extend grace to me. Fourth, staying at home with a kid is HARD. I don't know how you full-timers do it. The three months in the summer wears me out. And finally, you know. The whole miscarriage thing. I should be in the fetal position under my covers without coming out for days at a time. 

But I'm not. I can't quit repeating these words to people who extend sympathy (which has been so appreciated): I'm okay. I really, really am. All those things weighing on me? Sure, they're big. Some of them are important and some are urgent and some are both, so I can't pretend they don't exist. But they're not my life. 

In fact, my life isn't really even about me. If you've known me awhile, you may be shocked that I've finally come to that conclusion. But, truth. If you need proof that life isn't about me or you or even your family, I saw this picture on Facebook the other day that puts it into perspective. 

We're a speck in the universe, a speck in time. But Jesus is forever. The creator of everything that exists, the author of life, the eternal God. He is the center of everything. 

A friend was listening to the new Francesca Battistelli song the other day called "Strangely Dim," and she texted me the lyrics as an encouragement:

But when I fix my eyes on all that You are
Then every doubt I feel
Deep in my heart
Grows strangely dim
All my worries fade
And fall to the ground
Cause when I seek Your face
And don't look around
Any place I'm in
Grows strangely dim

And it's so true. Fixing my eyes on Jesus doesn't mean that problems don't exist or that I shouldn't take care of them. It means that He is so much bigger than everything that I have going on. I think I prefer the old hymn that says it so concisely: 

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.

If I live from an earthly perspective, I would be completely overwhelmed right now (well, most of the time). But I am choosing to look at life from a kingdom perspective. Ephesians 2:6 says that God "raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms" (NIV). When you're seated in the heavens with Jesus, your perspective changes. We have no choice but to view it through kingdom eyes. And the Bible makes it pretty clear that we cannot earn that seat in the heavens. Once we are saved, once we have trusted Jesus, we are called saints. We have the authority of Christ in us. In Ephesians chapter 1, Paul prays for all believers the following: "that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms" (1:18-20, NIV). 

Wow. Just, wow. The same power that RAISED CHRIST from the DEAD is IN US. And I'm worried about what, again? 

If I want to be more than a speck in the universe and a speck in time (and I think we all want to have significance), then I'm going to start walking in that power that is in me. I want to see life spring forth where there is death, destruction, and desperation. I want to see diseases healed and hope burst from people's hearts. I want to see young people walk in their own destinies and callings that God has laid before them. I want to see people who call themselves Christians (because they attend a church, occasionally give money, and maybe serve charitably) start embracing that same power and walking in the Holy Spirit in order to effect change in our homes, communities, organizations, schools, and nation. 

What can I do, what can YOU do, to start turning our eyes upon Jesus? To look at life from His kingdom perspective and let the things of earth grow strangely dim? Let's rise up, friends. Haven't you been searching for more? Let's walk this out. I'm so ready. 

In His Time

I should have picked digital. No idea what time this is.

I get really frustrated with people who are notoriously late. My boss might say that's ironic, because I arrive between three and eight minutes late to work most days. But when it's an event I should be at, or if it's anything not at the crack of dawn, I'm always early (or right on time, so as not to be the dork that arrives early). However, my in-laws (love you guys!) can run up to an hour or two late. Drives. Me. Nuts.

Punctuality is courtesy, to me. I understand emergencies, and I understand the difficulty of getting dawdling kids out the door. But if I'm throwing a party that starts at 7, and everyone arrives at 8, I'm going to feel a little slighted, like no one bothered to spend that first hour with me. Lesson for you all: be on time. 

But I think the Lord has a different sense of timing than I have. No, I know He does. For instance, it did not make any sense to me that my miscarriage last week would happen: 1. on a Saturday, when the main hospital desk is closed and I would have to go through ER; 2. when I was at my first shift of work; 3. when many of my Greenville friends were out of town at a conference; and 4. at the start of Deedra's two-week vacation, when she had no signal to even call me (for people who aren't as familiar with me, she has been with me each step of this process). 

Figures.

But over a week later, I can see how God's hand was at work in all of this, including the timing. Maybe especially in the timing. 

Last Monday, after I'd been up all night, practically in labor with a child I'll never meet this side of heaven, I wasn't sure that I could do this alone. I texted as much to Deedra, and she sent me a text that impacted me greatly. It said: "You know that part of the old lies you believe is that you're not old enough to do it. Combat it with the truth. You are more than a conqueror through Christ Jesus. He is your strength where you are weak. You are able." And it was a revelation. I could do it. More than that, I had to.

My husband is great, but let's face it. He'll never understand the attachment that can form quickly to a baby in the womb, nor could he understand the hormones and emotions that were swarming through me. Plus, he works every afternoon and evening, so Monday through Thursday stretched ahead of me, lonely and difficult. The times when he left for work were my hardest part of the day. And yet, like I said in my last blog, I made it through, each day stronger than the day before. 

I know why I'm okay. I explained that earlier. It's because I have a faith and hope in Jesus Christ and the promises that God has a redemptive plan in every situation. But now I understand that much of this was in the timing. Because I couldn't rely on people around me, which was my standard MO, I had to rely solely on God. (Disclaimer: I had dozens of texts, Facebook messages, and a wonderful talk with a couple close friends during this, so I recognize I had support. I just was cut off from the normal dependence on others that I could have fallen back into.)

For my birthday, a colleague gave me a Bill Johnson book called Strengthen Yourself in Lord. As I started reading it yesterday (yes, I'm slow), I found a passage that spoke directly to me. It said:

"For the sake of becoming mature and growing in favor so that we can bless those around us, God brings moments into our lives when we have to stand alone in difficulty and testing. God will even blind the eyes and deafen the ears of our closest friends in those moments so we can learn to minister to ourselves."

Whoa. While I didn't feel like friends were ignoring me (the ones I could talk to have been great), I did feel let down that the one person who's been by my side on several difficult journeys this year was literally out of my reach. And though several people in my life had pretty much already told me that maybe God wanted to show me something out of that, it didn't sink in until I read those words by Johnson. The timing of this was exactly how it needed to be. 

I finally got to talk to Deedra today. And I see how much more beneficial this conversation was than it might have been if it had happened a week ago. I'm on the other side of a process that I've had to cling to God for, and as I told her all of this, she confirmed that the timing was right. She even mentioned that maybe this was less of a "test" of how I could survive, and more a way for me to see how much I've grown lately. Either way, I know all of this has only strengthened my trust in God. 

His ways are ALWAYS better than mine.

My Story

This isn't a blog I anticipated having to write, especially after the one the Lord prompted me to write about speaking life over my new son or daughter. But life doesn't often make sense, and here I am writing about the death of that child that never had a chance to live. As an introduction to what's been happening, I want to share part of the lyrics to a song by Plumb called "Need You Now (How Many Times)" that I keep hearing on the radio. 

Well, everybody's got a story to tell

And everybody's got a wound to be healed

I want to believe there's beauty here

'Cause oh, I get so tired of holding on

I can't let go, I can't move on

I want to believe there's meaning here

How many times have you heard me cry out

"God please take this"?

How many times have you given me strength to

Just keep breathing?

Oh I need you

God, I need you now.

I thought I would have to write a disclaimer about how I realize that what I'm going through is small business compared to other people's tragedies and problems. But a few weeks ago, a really wise woman told me that "everyone is on their own journey." So mine doesn't have to read as easier or harder or better or worse. It is simply my journey. And no matter our journeys, I'm sure that we've all related to those Plumb lyrics at one time or another, because we all have a story to tell. 

Two weeks ago, some complications arose in my pregnancy that concerned me. Because it was a long weekend, I tried to find most of my answers on Google instead of from my doctor. I decided that I probably had partial placenta previa and that everything would be fine once I was diagnosed. However, when I finally went in for an ultrasound a few days later, I learned that although my baby was moving around like crazy and had a strong heartbeat, he (gut feeling that it was a boy) wasn't growing as fast as he should be. The next day, my doctor confirmed that I was at a high risk for a miscarriage. 

At that point, I already felt like it was a sure thing. I texted this to a friend: "I know nothing bad has happened yet, and God is in control, but I feel a little like I'm just waiting for my baby to die. Helpless." Call it mother's intuition, but a part of me had already been feeling like I would never hold this child. 

However, that night, I opened my Bible to Matthew chapter 8. It happened to be the next chapter for me to read, and verses 2 and 3 say: "A man with leprosy came and knelt before him and said, 'Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.' Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' he said. 'Be clean!' Immediately he was cleansed of his leprosy" (NIV). I felt like God was telling me that He was willing to heal and that I shouldn't be waiting for death. I should be praying for healing and choosing life. And so, in faith, I began speaking life over the baby, much like God had told me to do earlier in the pregnancy, before any complications were even known. 

That was Wednesday night. Saturday morning, I discovered a lot of blood, and I knew it was the end. I was running on shock (and a little anger that this was happening on a Saturday and would require an expensive emergency room visit). After an agonizing wait in the ER, I had my final ultrasound. As soon as I saw the screen, I knew there was nothing to see. My baby wasn't moving at all anymore. The tech quietly confirmed that there was no longer a heartbeat, and I went home to wait for the natural miscarriage. 

So far, I had been fine emotionally. It wasn't a big surprise. Everything had happened quickly, so I hadn't had much processing time since everything had been confirmed. In fact, for the rest of Saturday and Sunday, I had to keep reminding myself that I was no longer pregnant. 

All that changed Sunday night. If my night in labor with Jorie was one of the most physically demanding times of my life, this past Sunday night was the next. I essentially gave birth. Contractions, pushing, the whole nine yards. Keep in mind that I was twelve weeks along when I passed the baby. Around 2:00 in the morning, I fell into bed, sobbing. I woke poor Ronnie up and I cried, "It's not fair that I'm delivering a baby that I will never see or hold. The last time I had contractions like this, there was movement and excited anticipation. THIS. ISN'T. FAIR." And bless him, he agreed and stayed awake while I popped in and out of bed for the next two hours. That was the first time I'd cried. And it wasn't the last. 

Monday, I wasn't sure if I could drag myself out of bed after Ronnie left for work. Tuesday, Jorie asked for lunch, and I looked in the refrigerator, almost too overwhelmed to scrounge something up for her. But each day, I made myself leave the house. Jorie and I spent time at the library, at the park, at the grocery store. And each day got a little bit easier. I was fully present with Jorie, fully functional. And though each day brought more physical issues as everything was running its course, I marveled that I felt, miraculously, okay. 

No, it's not okay that I never met my baby (which I've decided, and Ronnie agrees, is a son named Carter James). It's not okay that I've talked to over thirty women in the past week that have experienced their own miscarriages (side note: ladies, why isn't this discussed more?). It's not okay that a friend of mine lost her son at the age of seventeen. It's not fair that other friends are struggling with loneliness, depression, and loss. Those things are not okay. God never tells us that they're okay. They're the opposite of okay. They are a result of a living in a fallen, sinful world. This world is broken. It has pain, loss, crying, rejections, abandonment, and fear. 

But that's not the end of the story. 

John 16:33 says, "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." That's our promise. And that's how I can be okay. I'm okay because God redeems what the enemy intends for evil. I can already see facets of redemption in my story this past week. I'm not healed yet, but I'm growing closer to my Healer. If that's the only good that comes from this, it will be enough. But I already know that there is more. More that I've seen already, and more that I may never see. Every life has a purpose, and Carter's twelve short weeks in the womb will accomplish that destiny that God intended. And so, even now, I speak life over Carter and over the plan that God has. Like the song above says, I believe there is beauty and meaning here. And even while I wait to see it all, which may not happen until I'm on the other side of eternity, I can continue to cry out my need to the Lord. That's all we can really hold onto in this life, anyway. And it will always be enough.

Throwback Thursday: Jesus & the Holy Spirit

Last year, my youth group was doing a study on the Holy Spirit. Even though I never volunteer to speak, I did then, because this is a topic that interests me very much. I was assigned to talk about the Holy Spirit in the Gospels, so I focused on the life of Jesus. This isn't written like a blog or even like a sermon. It's very much still in its rough "notes" form, with questions and answers.

1.       Did Jesus operate in the gifts of the Spirit?

Yes. He healed the sick, drove out demons, performed miracles, prophesied, used discernment, exercised wisdom & words of knowledge, and he expressed faith.

He didn’t use tongues or interpretation. Because He already prayed the will of the Father, He didn’t need those gifts. They didn’t appear until the Holy Spirit fell at Pentecost in Acts, after Jesus had ascended.

2.       How was Jesus able to operate in the Spirit?

By being completely dependent on the power of the Holy Spirit working through Him.

Jesus himself could not heal the sick, raise the dead, or perform miracles (John 5:19—The Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does).

Yes, He is 100% God, but He chose to live as a man, with the same limitations man would face after redemption. This is hugely important, because if Jesus performed miracles as God, these acts would be impossible and unattainable. We would read about signs and wonders and say, “Wow, good for him.” But if Jesus did miracles as a man, I am responsible to pursue that lifestyle!

3.       How was Jesus empowered?

Jesus was empowered by hearing God’s voice and then responding in obedience. How did He so easily know the will of the Father? Simple. He spent time with the Father.

Jorie, as my daughter, knows my heart because she spends a lot of time with me. If she wanted to know how I would respond in a specific situation, she probably wouldn’t ask all my friends or read someone’s biography of me. She could, but at best all that would do is point her in the right direction. No, she would ask me. Watch how I act. Read my journals, maybe. The more time you spend with someone, the better you know them.

In Luke 4, the context is that the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness for 40 days, where He did nothing but pray and fast and was tempted by Satan. (Luke 4:14--Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit.)

He has been filled with the Spirit. Did someone prophesy over him? Did anyone lay hands on him? Was there a band playing amazing Hillsong and Jesus Culture songs? What was he doing that filled him with the Spirit?

                He was 1. Spending time with the Lord and 2. Standing up against temptation.

I think it’s important to note that his time with the Father included prayer, fasting, and meditating on Scripture. In fact, he battled Satan simply by confessing Scripture…OUT LOUD. But that’s another topic.

Turn to Mark and someone read 9:14-29 (OR) context: The disciples were trying to drive a demon out of a boy, and they couldn’t, so Jesus was summoned. Read 4:28-29.

Now, did Jesus stop right then and began praying? No. He led a lifestyle of prayer and spending time with God. It was intentional devotion. His time in the desert is proof that time with God empowers the Spirit.

Now read Jesus’ response to the same scenario in Matthew 17:20 (If you would only have faith, nothing would be impossible). Okay. Seems like a different response, right? One time he calls for prayer, the other, faith. Make up your mind! But hang on. Look up Romans 10:17 (Faith comes from hearing the message). How do we hear the word of the Lord? We pray. We study the Bible. We confess Scripture out loud. We spend time with Him. Then look—nothing will be impossible. As we hear the word, faith builds!

4.       How often did Jesus operate in the gifts?

All the time! For a frame of reference, I looked up JUST instances of healing in Matthew chapters 5-25. There are over 20 listed, and in over half of them, there is no way to count all the healings. Words are used like “every,” “large crowds,” “all who were ill,” “every disease,” “all were healed,” and “great crowds.”

That’s just healing. That isn’t including times he prophesied or used wisdom or drove out demons, etc. He was constantly moving in the Holy Spirit. He never fell out of the anointing. His lifestyle of personal devotion didn’t allow Him to.

5.       Why did Jesus operate in the gifts?

He moved in the Spirit to bring God’s kingdom to heart. He wanted to serve and minister to all, so that Heaven would be recognized here.

How do we follow the example Jesus left? We spend time with the Lord. We let our faith grow. We allow the Holy Spirit to fill us. And we exercise that power by operating in the gifts of the Spirit for service, ministry, encouragement, and simply to know Jesus better. The more time we spend with Him, the more clearly we hear Him.

Stewarding the Call

On Friday, April 12, Jorie and I were headed home from school. We decided to stop by Wal-Mart to get supplies for a GNI (girls' night in), like cookie dough, pizza, and a Barbie DVD. And also...a pregnancy test. Now, since I've been married, I've had a weird fascination with pregnancy tests. I can't tell you how many I've purchased over the years, even when I was pretty dang sure it wasn't even possible. But I have an app on my iPhone that tracks certain female things, and if it even seemed like I was perhaps a day off, then I was off to the drugstore. Generally, buying one ensured that certain things would occur the next day, so often I bought it to trick Mother Nature. (Is this too much information for my male reader(s)? I apologize, but get used to it.)

Imagine my surprise then, when out of the hundreds of pregnancy tests I've taken (perhaps more like dozens), the one on April 12 turned out to be...positive. Like, without any doubt in the world positive. We tried for Jorie, and the first test I took with her was so faint that I had to take four more over the next week just so I was convinced. Not this time around. This one was screaming, "Hey! There's a kid in your belly! SURPRISE!"

Backstory: I had a not-great pregnancy with Jorie, and since it was coupled with the world's most unbelievable labor and delivery that I have since tried to block from my mind (keywords: back labor, power outage, squirrel, failed epidural, emergency c-section), I had pretty much unofficially decided that one child was just perfect, thanks.

Flash forward to April 12. Omg. I'm pregnant. As the shock rolled in, I knew I needed to talk about this. Slight problem: Ronnie was with my brothers and sisters-in-law at the Cardinals game, and there was no way he would be able to have this conversation in front of them. But since I owed it to him to be the first to know, we had the world's most stealth and awkward phone call.
Me: Don't react. Don't say anything.
Ronnie: Got it.
Me: I, on a whim, took a pregnancy test. It's positive.
Ronnie: Okay, thanks for letting me know. Talk to you later.

To his credit, he didn't even blink at the news. My brothers never suspected a thing. But five seconds later, I did receive a text that simply said, "WOW!" He was surprised but very excited.

I, on the other hand, was not so excited. I mean, there's always the initial excitement of oh my gosh, there's a baby growing inside me. I get to pick out names. I love that new baby smell. But most of those thoughts were replaced quickly with oh my gosh, we live in a two bedroom house. I work full-time. I have a five-year-old. Babies take diapers and bottles and sleepless nights. And these thoughts were not-so-fleeting. In fact, they were constantly in my head for several weeks. While I wasn't at the point of wishing for a miscarriage (this is my child, after all), I wasn't yet ready to face the reality of a new person in my house.

But all that changed one night when I was reading Face to Face with God by Bill Johnson. There is a section devoted to John the Baptist, and in this section, Johnson was discussing John's life while still in his mother's womb. If you'll remember the story, John's father did not believe when the angel spoke of John's impending birth. Because of his unbelief, the father was rendered mute for several months while John was still a bun in Elizabeth's oven. Johnson argued that one of the reasons Zacharias wasn't allowed to speak was so his words couldn't disagree with God's will on baby John's life.

He goes on to say that Elizabeth hid her pregnancy for the first few months in order to protect John from the careless words of others. Obviously, our words have effect. Can they thwart the will of God? I'm not sure we'll ever know the real answer to that question. But why are we warned so much in the book of James about the power of our tongues if there weren't damages caused by our words?

The greeting from Mary to Elizabeth caused John to leap in his mother's womb. Obviously, the words in that greeting had the power to reach the unborn baby and fill him with joy. Why would speaking negatively not affect the unborn baby in the opposite way? Johnson writes, "In the story of John's birth we see a powerful illustration of partnering with the Lord in speech and action in order to steward the call of God on his life."

Wow. Just, wow. What was I speaking over my unborn baby? Fears, anxieties, worries, concerns, sprinkled with the occasional drop of excitement. How was this possibly stewarding the call of God on my child's life? It wasn't. That was a huge moment of conviction and repentance for me.

I'm not sure why God chose this timing to give my family a new child. I'm not sure that I'm worthy to parent another beautiful person. But I do know that I am now rejoicing over this development and speaking life over my unborn baby.

I choose to use my words and actions to partner with the Lord in this endeavor.

Looks just like me. Can't you tell? Yeah, me, neither. :)

Guest Post by Ginger Coakley: Set Free

I am a modern-day abolitionist. I know, cool title, right?! While I love my job, I still find myself shocked at the reality that there is a need in the world for people like me. There is a need for thousands, maybe millions of modern-day abolitionists. Modern day slavery is rampant in our world…our 21^st-century slavery-illegal-in-every-country world…the best known number of slaves counts there are more slaves today than at any other point in human history: 30 million. That is 30 million individuals who are living and breathing, who have the image of God stamped on their souls, and who have (or had) hopes and dreams for their lives. Instead of experiencing freedom in all of those things, they are in bondage and forced to work for someone else’s gain.

Why am I shocked? Don’t we become numb to terrible realities that are put before us everyday? Yes, we do usually, but I am regularly made aware of new terrible realities. Here are a few: Law enforcement in St. Louis reports they could rescue at least 4 girls everyday from being pimped out but they don’t have anywhere safe and equipped to send them. In a neighboring town a mother is pimping out her son and her daughter so she can buy drugs. Young people are wrapped up in pornography and deceived into thinking they are loved by a guy, when in actuality they are being set up to be pimped out. A restaurant in a neighboring town is moving young Hispanics from work site to work site giving them no freedom and extremely little pay. All the major clothing brands I could buy for my young son (Oshkosh, Carters, Garanimals, Just One You, etc) have known slave labor in their supply chains. My shock, and perhaps better described as my heartache, continues and grows with each new reality I encounter.

The US Department defines human trafficking as the recruitment, harboring, transportation, provision, or obtaining of a person for the purpose of a commercial sex act where such an act is induced by force, fraud, or coercion, or in which the person induced to perform such an act has not attained 18 years of age--OR--
The recruitment, harboring, transportation, provision, or obtaining of a person for labor or services, through the use of force, fraud, or coercion for the purpose of subjection to involuntary servitude, peonage, debt bondage, or slavery. Human traffickers are garnering $32 billion each year off the individuals who meet this definition in their everyday life. When I began working and ministering in this field, human trafficking was ranked 3^rd among top grossing international organized crime; recently it has been moved up to the 2^nd place position. Why? Because drug traffickers are using their incredibly networked system to move people instead, after all, people are a renewable resource whereas drugs, once used, are gone.

The Set Free Movement is committed to collaborating with first responders and key stakeholders to ensure communities are ready to help victims when their terrible reality is made aware to us. We are moving toward being a Zero Tolerance (for slavery, for injustice) Community. YOU are a key stakeholder in this community, in your community, and in our world.

This Friday, May 10, 2013, The Set Free Movement is hosting a training session where we will learn about slavery’s realities. From Assistant US Attorney, Monica Stump, we will be equipped to recognize the signs and indicators as well as be provided explanations of the laws that surround human trafficking in America today. JeffOthic is a special investigator for Homeland Security’s Immigration and Custom Enforcement Division, and he will review the process of investigations within human trafficking cases. We will also hear from CleoTerry, Coordinator of the Rescue and Restore Coalition of Southwestern Illinois, who will be giving in-depth explanations on how to work with victims of human trafficking.

I recently found myself amidst a group of college students committed to pray around this issue. The prayer that came from my own lips was about Moses. Moses, the first abolitionist of our faith, was terrified to do what God called him to - he was called to free his community. And with that first call, I believe God put abolition in our spiritual DNA. The rest of my prayer was for the traffickers, that they would find plagues heaped upon them and be destroyed. There is a way to end modern day slavery, but it will only be accomplished by thousands, maybe millions, of abolitionists. We must be willing to heed the call, one that will break our hearts and shock our “safe and quaint” communities. We must be willing to change the way me make purchases (start with www.free2work.org) and buy ethically sourced goods. We must educate ourselves (find out more about the Set Free training event here) as much as possible. We must move in three directions: Prevention, Rescue, and Restoration (check out the Set Free Primer).

I will end with the prayer of five year old Mariah: “Dear Jesus, Thank you that we are free to walk and run and ride our bikes.  We are sad because you are sad that there are kids that are not free.  Please help those kids to know that you are near to them and you can be in their hearts.  Help them to not be too sad and help them to be free too.”

Thank you to Chrisy, Megan, and Wick who graciously invited me to guest post on their blog. If you have further questions or want to join the ranks of abolitionists around the world, feel free to email me: ginger@setfreemovement.org.    

Legacy of Love...and Cake

Strictly speaking, this blog post will veer a little from my usual type of writing. I might possibly be using this as a platform for a recipe and future Pinterest sensation. Hey, a girl can dream, right? But in general terms, since this recipe was my Grandma Kate's, it's still perfectly "centered," because that's who she was--centered on the Lord.

My grandma was married for over sixty years and raised five children. At the time of her death in 2009, she had thirteen grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren (since then, seven more have been added to that legacy). My grandma loved her grand-babies more than anything. She never missed a sporting event of my cousins, my brothers, or mine. She sat on bleachers for decades watching basketball, volleyball, tennis, and cheerleading. She was at every school play, concert, or special ceremony that any of us had. For those of us who lived in Greenville with her, she drove us to and from school, entertained us and our friends, and cooked us dinners. She was my babysitter for the first eleven years of my life, and I'll always cherish the memories I have of playing cards with her, helping her do laundry, or watching Cardinals baseball together.

But my grandma was more than a loving grandma; she was also a loved daughter of Christ. To be honest, I don't know a whole lot about her spiritual life growing up or even as a young mom. But as an older woman, she lived for the Lord. She was in church every Sunday (or Saturday, when the service times changed). She reached out to family constantly with prayers or financial help. She read books, asked questions, and was faithful to growing closer to God. However, my favorite was listening to her sing hymns. She didn't have the best voice in the world, but it never stopped her from singing loudly her favorite song, Blessed Assurance. If you're not familiar with the words (because we've lost the fine art of hymn-singing in our contemporary services), the chorus reads:

This is my story, this is my song,

praising my Savior all the day long;

this is my story, this is my song,

praising my Savior all the day long.

My grandma wasn't perfect. Ask my mom or any of her brothers. But she operated in love. She loved her family, she loved her friends, and she loved her Savior. One of the ways she loved me was by making my favorite cake every year on my birthday: a gooey butter cake. Now, I didn't realize until last weekend, when some friends were down from Wisconsin, that gooey butter cake isn't widely known. In fact, like our beloved toasted ravioli, it's a St. Louis thing! Never stop learnin'... 

Tonight, I'm baking my grandma's butter cake recipe for my friend's birthday. And because the recipe is too yummy and simple to keep to myself, I'm sharing it here. Enjoy!

Grandma Kate's Ooey Gooey Butter Cake

Ingredients:  3 eggs

                   1 stick of butter

                   1 box yellow cake mix

                   8oz cream cheese

                   16oz powdered sugar

Directions: 

In a bowl, blend together one egg, the cake mix, and a slightly softened stick of butter. This will be very thick and clumpy. Spread it at the bottom of a greased cake pan as a crust.

In a second bowl, blend together the other two eggs, the cream cheese, and the powdered sugar. This will be creamy, yet still thick. Pour it carefully on top of the crust. Use a spatula to evenly spread it. I always try to leave a little crust showing on all the sides. 

Bake at 350 degrees for about 30-40 minutes. It's done when the top is slightly golden and the crust is browning. If you have a pinch of powdered sugar left over, sprinkle it on top for a fun finish. Enjoy!

Every time I make this, I remember my grandma and her legacy of love. And I know that she's living the last verse of Blessed Assurance even now:

Perfect submission, all is at rest;

I in my Savior am happy and blest,

watching and waiting, looking above,

filled with his goodness, lost in his love.