Scandalous, Wild Hope

Tenderness is terrifying. The risk of vulnerability and being truly seen and seeing others clearly is a scandalous hope that hurts. Like a sharp intake of brackish water into lungs built for sky.

I cannot bear it.

I step into the light but I keep my eyes squeezed tight. You can’t see me if I can’t see you.

I feel your hand brush my hand but I pretend that I don’t.

I feel your eyes search mine, but I avert my gaze.

Your tenderness reaches out, looking for a heart to touch and I pull my lapel up to guard my neck.

I send my intentions from behind a curtain, hoping to be regarded but safely from a distance.

I can’t respond to any hint you give of tenderness even when I want to! I simply never developed the muscle to. I don’t even know how to try.

Instead, I wait. For what? Assurance of safety? Transparency of intent? Some guarantee?

We all wait with bated breath.

Build up walls no man (or woman) can scale- walls of unrealistic ideals and falsified hopes. Excuses to guard from disappointment and rejection. From things not working out one more time. From hoping again and watching those hopes turn to dust...

Jesus, tear down my walls. These monuments I’ve built to validate the lies I have believed protect me.  Teach me how to receive your tenderness so that I can receive the tenderness of others. So I can give tenderness freely from my heart, without fear. And without hesitation.

I want to speak all of the languages of love, Jesus. I want to speak them in all the ways- softly, loudly. I want to love so fiercely and so bravely that people feel loved even just sitting in the silence with me, in the dark of night under a star-filled sky. I want to breathe love- in and out. I want it to pour from my eyes and from my lips. I want to be known as someone who loves like you do.

And I want to be able to receive love with the same ferocity. With the same open arms. With the same fearless, brave and wild hope that YOU love.

You are never scared to love with all you have and to open your heart wide to receive us.

Even when we hurt your vulnerability and your exposed heart. Even when we reject you and defile and mock your love.

Still you are both relentless and patient. Both pursuing and steady. Calm and wild. You are the storm of the calm.

I want to be just like you. Teach and empower me how to love and live like you. Increase my faith and my brave heart and my wild hope.

Living in Season

Have you ever noticed how often people say things like: “I feel this is my season to grow in this area…” or “I’m ready for a season of change in my life.”  You can interchange “life” with: job, location, relationships, etc.  You know you’ve heard them all.

Just as the natural world marks seasons by change and process, we mark our seasons this way as well.  Seasons string together and what is gained in one season is needed in the next.  What is planted in one season is yielded in the next, which is consumed or stored in the next season, and replanted in the next and on and on.  The truth is, we need these seasons to have productive, fruitful and full lives.

I think the biggest error we can make is to not allow ourselves grace to be present in the season that we are in.  A single person can become full of sorrow waiting for a match, while a married person can be resentful of the freedom someone single enjoys.  Those who have children in school can become tired or burdened with the busy-ness of extracurricular activities and slumber parties, while the parent who has just seen their child off to college yearns to have those years again.  Children can’t wait to grow up and then adults wistfully look back at the “days of their youth.”  You see what I’m saying?

We can waste our seasons wanting to be in a season other than the one we are in and miss the gold that is waiting for us right now.  Some lay about in plain sight, but others you have to climb for or dig for.  (Think of the squirrel and how he forages for acorns.  He goes AFTER it- even through many obstacles and difficulties) Every season, even the difficult ones, are an invitation into a process of “becoming” and the joy that can be found there.

I’m learning (or re-learning, I guess) how to find peace and joy in whatever process I find myself in.  It’s like when you are baking brownies.  It’s such a mess: flour everywhere, sticky measuring cups, gooey countertops…but at the end, brownies exist.   Something so delicious came from ingredients that apart from one another are simply ordinary.  Sugar is too sweet, flour tastes like nothing, salt is well, salty…

But in process, with time…they have the potential to be something truly delicious.

Sometimes when I’m in the midst of cooking something in my life, it’s so easy to just stare at the ingredients and get overwhelmed or anxious that it’s not going to turn out or taste right.

Allow your season to be what it is.  Embrace the mess, the pain, the discomfort of becoming and allow yourself to become.  Enjoy the process!  Tasting the batter along the way is part of the fun.

Dusty

I recently took some time to read over the entries in this blog and my other blog, Calamity Jane.  I was amazed at some of the things I have written over the years, and these are just the things I have shared publicly.

Truthfully, I have journals filled and neatly organized computer files brimming with the musings and meanderings of this mind.

I miss the way I used to write. 

I miss the unhindered way my heart would flood from the tips of my fingers.

So...

I'm dusting off my idealism and waking the dreamer.

It's time to write again.

Perseverance...

Burn all the dross away...
Bend my stubborn will...
Create in me a clean heart.

My yes is yours, my heart is yours...build me up in you.

❤

The MANifesto

I have often thought about the kind of woman I want to be for my husband: loving, Christ-centered, full of grace, walking in dignity, poised, fit and healthy, intelligent, helpful, beautiful, confident, serving, patient, funny, etc.....

But I've realized lately that it has been years (at least 3) since I thought about what I wanted.  What did I want?  I dated someone earlier this year, but only briefly.  He was wonderful but I never really felt my heart jump ...never felt this sense that YES...THIS is what I want.  So this last year...given that this is the beginning of a season of unfulfilled dreams coming true, beauty treatments, transformation, etc.... I have been thinking every so often of what I want....

So, Here is my list that I started last year....and growing.... Maybe some of it is unrealistic.  Haha, I don't care!  I was just having fun with God!

I want to be enraptured.
I want a man who is in love with Jesus and sees the world through His eyes.

I want a man who knows what and who he wants: me
I want a passionate, wild at heart, man

I want a man who is decisive and assertive, who is firm and strong without being overbearing and controlling.

I want a man who makes me his business.  Who takes care of me.  Who partners with me in tackling any obstacle that comes our way.

I want a man who listens, sure, but I also want a man with solutions!

I want a fixer.

I want a “take action” kind of fella.

I want a man who fights for justice and freedom.

I want a man who knows who he is and whose he is.

I want a man who will ravish me with passionate kisses.

Who will devour me, not with the sickness of the locusts of years past, but with a passion that gives as it takes…

A man who will slam me up against the wall, interrupt my words with his lips, exhume the oxygen from my lungs and replace it with his own.  (It seemed too cliche to say "a man who takes my breath away")

I want a man with a will that dares to flex up against my will, strong enough to bend and never break…

A man of conviction and only wise compromise

I want a steady soldier, singing his heart out the Lord, brave and true and believing.

I want a partner.

I want a mischievous sparkle in the eyes and a twitch at the corner of adorable lips.

I want  a man to lead me, but humble enough to let me shine

I want a man who stays humble and a lifelong student

I want a man who will be a voice for the voiceless.

I want a man who is a defender, a protector, a courageous one.

I want a man who knows how to laugh and who will find me hilarious. Even if he's laughing AT me, sometimes.

I want a TRUTH- finder.  A man who can see through facade.  

I want a TRUTH- sayer.  A man who will speak his mind and stand-- even when no one else will.

I want a man who can melt me

I want  a man with eyes that see

I want  a man with a heart that can see who I am but also who I will become.

I want a man with a purity plan for when we are dating, with clear boundaries and expectations from the beginning.

I want a man who will flirt with me and NEVER stop courting my heart.

I want a playful man.

I want a man who is confident about leading me and who WANTS to lead me.

I want a man who trusts and gleans my wisdom

I want a man who believes in me and who I can believe in

I want a man who loves children and has a nurturing Father’s heart and tenderness.

I want a man who cares about his health but doesn’t waste time on vanity

I want a man who sees me- even when I’m hiding.

I want a man who knows how to kiss a woman.

I want a tender heart, a lion heart, a sweet heart.

I want a compassionate, deep well.

I want a man who is incredibly kind.

I want a man who can be patient while I become someone who deserves him.

Tight Rope

I'm a tightrope walker...balancing over two delicate realities. One side is practicality: I'm an entrepreneur, self-starter, hard-worker...I have to somehow come up with the cash to deal with the overwhelming financial issues threatening to snap the line at any moment with its immense density. Most of these from a time when the company I worked for went under and I suddenly found myself unemployed. As perfect timing would have it, I found myself in the hospital with rare throat condition and a mountain of hospital bills.

On the other side is pure trust and faith. Where God meets all of my needs. Where strangers walk up to me and hand me money. Where people donate to my missions trip. Where unicorns fly in on golden wings and defecate in jewels and rainbows all over my yard.

I don't believe it is God's intention for me to live in poverty in order to pursue changing the world but I also don't believe it is his intention for me to constantly be raising money/asking for support/etc. I know he's give me divine ideas on how to MAKE money for myself and others.

But sometimes that is the "not yet"....it's not always the now.

So that leads to the tightrope. A tightrope is the now.

So...I'm tired. I'm tired of feeling like I've been taking care of myself for my entire life... been "adulting" since I was 18... and don't get me wrong...I've had tons of help and divine intervention... miracle after miracle and friends and family helping out.....

But I am tired of always feeling like I am trudging in mud...never really taking any productive step anywhere.

I guess it is in times like this I would like a husband. Not someone to solve all of my problems or take care of me, but a partner. To be able to turn to someone at the end of the day and know that there is another physical human being here to join my team and combat issues with.

I realize how blessed I am. I realize compared to most people, my debts are low and my wealth is high... but that is not the point.

I don't want to walk a tightrope... I'd much rather fly on the trapeze and reach out knowing that someone else is going to grab me by the hands and together we will fly through the air with ease... mutually supporting one another through great heights and low dips...in dreams...in hardship...in success.

Doing Life Together.

Beautiful *Leah- Tijuana Testimony

*Leah's transformed face as she left the party!

I promised that I would be posting more on the blog and updating you all with stories and testimonies, and so I am going to be rewinding through the year and pulling all of my favorites from the corners of my memory.

I have many stories and testimonies from Tijuana, but I wanted to share about *Leah.

On our last night in Tijuana, we threw a party for all of the prostitutes, pimps, strippers, and their children.  We threw it in the most unlikely of places:  a gay strip club.  I have no idea what strip clubs usually look like, but this one was disgusting.  We spent several hours cleaning the club and re-decorating it.  One of our team members, Brettley said:  "Sometimes love looks like covering a stripper pole with balloons" We placed table cloths and candles on each table and strung balloons across the room and really transformed the place.  I remember sometime amidst the preparation feeling this overwhelming heaviness.  You could feel the threats of the enemy whispering viciously in your ears.  The spiritual darkness and warfare was very obvious, so I did the only thing that came to my heart: sing.

I went to the second floor where the "V.I.P." suites are and where no one could see me but where I knew all of hell could hear me and I sang at the top of my lungs praises to Jesus until I could feel the atmosphere shifting.  I imagined all of those spirits plugging their ears as they ran screaming from the building.  My friend Emily joined me and started singing loudly and we sang and sang until it lifted and the uneasy, queasy feeling in my stomach evaporated.  The taunts of the enemy ceased.

Later, when all of the decorating was done, one of our trip leaders asked if I would lead some worship on the stage.  I found it very difficult.  It really felt like someone had their hand around my throat and clamping my mouth shut.  I sang a little bit but then turned my guitar over to another worship leader on our team, Sam.  He had the same problem and turned it over to another musician Austin, but he also had trouble.  The musicians set to play didn't come and so it was getting off to a rocky beginning.  Our leaders gathered to pray one more time together before people started arriving and again we could feel the tension evaporate.

But.... as we waited...

No one was coming.

I began to think we had thrown a party for ourselves when the first girl showed up:  *Leah.  We supported the local church in Tijuana and so many of them were also there that night to minister to whoever came.  Some of our team went and got food for *Leah and began chatting with her.  A little later, Sam came over to me and told me that *Leah was a singer and wanted to sing and asked if I could come over with my guitar.  When I came over, she wanted to sing "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion.  Not being particularly adept to the guitar, I asked Sam to play and so he did and she sang.  As she sang, we began to see pictures and words from the Father that he wanted us to share with her.  As we did, she smiled and something in her eyes would change.  Walls were coming down!

The night before, I had asked Sam (who speaks Spanish fluently) to help me translate one of my songs in Spanish in case the opportunity came to sing over any of the girls.  He turned to her in this moment and asked *Leah if she would like to hear a song I wrote.  She said yes!  So Sam and I sang her a song I wrote in Spanish.  The lyrics were:

" I put my trust in you, O Everlasting Father.
   I put my trust in you, O Everlasting Father.

   You're a rock
    You're a high place
    You're a fortress, in you I can rest.

  I put my hope in you, O Everlasting Father.
  I put my hope in you, O Everlasting Father.

  You're a rock
   You're a high place
  You're a fortress!

  I run into you when I'm afraid
  I run into you and I am saved.
  I run into you when I'm afraid.
  I run into you and I am safe

  Cause' you're a rock!
  You're a high place!
   You're a fortress!!

  You don't have to move, you don't have to move.
  The Lord, himself, will fight for you!"

It was amazing as we sang because she started singing along and her eyes started tearing up as the words impacted her!  The woman next to her, who was one of the local missionaries, also started to cry!

Earlier, we had bought jewelry and clothing to give and bless the guests to this party, and so one of my teammates came over with three different bracelets and asked if I wanted to give her one.  My eyes fell on a pretty delicate silver one with a purple stone.  "That one."  I said confidently.  I knew it was the one.  I cupped it secretively and came back over to the table, where another team mate Grant, had just served *Leah a big piece of cake.

"Close your eyes.  I have a surprise for you." I told *Leah.  She did so with a shy smile.

I placed the delicate bracelet into her open palm and then told her to open her eyes.

Her wide brown eyes stared at the bracelet for several moments before filling with tears.  She looked up at me and back down at the bracelet and then said breathlessly,
"No, you don't understand" she said, looking back up at me.

"I had a dream about this bracelet.  This exact bracelet.  I was walking on the beach and it was buried in the sand and I heard a voice calling me, telling me to pick it up.  So I did and I put it on, and the voice said I was royalty."  Then she laughed, kind of self-consciously. "I'm sorry I'm crying.  It's so funny, because lately I've been listening to the radio too and I feel like I'm going crazy or maybe God is talking to me because every song is talking about how I'm royalty and special."

We then were able to speak to her more about how God sees her and how special she is.  This led to her feeling safe and COMPLETELY opening up to us about her story.

It was heartbreaking but also EYE- opening for me to realize I could have been her.  This could have happened to me.

She was a pastors kid.  Had been adopted as a toddler into an Southern California Home, the daughter of YWAM pastors.  She grew up wanting to know more about her birth parents and feeling insecurities and deep depression and was pursued as a teenager by an older man in his 40s.  In her own words, she was rebellious and stupid and ran away with this man for a "vacation" to Tijuana.  While there, he left her and she began working as a waitress in a bar.  One day while listening to her headphones and dancing, she was encouraged by her boss to try "dancing" on stage.  So she began to dance and would escape into the music so she wouldn't have to think about what she was doing and the eyes that were always on her.  When that stopped working, she started using drugs to keep out the feelings of shame and guilt that she felt.

One night, a man waited for her until her shift was over.  She felt "honored" that he had waited all night for her and had roses.  She fell in love with him.  But once they were together, he started pimping her out.  She now calls him her "baby daddy" as she has had several children that he has taken on as his.  But it is obvious that he is her pimp...and one of the ways that they traffic women is by performing this same routine.  They sweet talk and lure a woman into feeling safe and in-love and then they prostitute them out.  Several times while we were talking she grew scared thinking he might show up at the party.

There was much more to her story, but that is the basic gist.  We were able to prophesy over her, encouraging her and edifying her and telling her the ways that God saw her... and we were able to pray with and encourage her.  Throughout the night, her entire countenance TRANSFORMED!

What I saw was how love transformed her.  One of our guys, Grant, really made me proud as he was intentional about treating her like a lady the entire night.  She made several comments saying:  "When I arrived, he treated me like a lady.  He made me feel like this entire party was thrown in my honor...and it really has felt that way."

She left feeling loved, cherished, royal, special, and pursued by the God who made her and loves her.  The local pastors and church we ministered with have stayed in contact with her and are pursuing her as well.

Please keep *Leah in your prayers, and the other ladies that live with her.  Pray for her "baby daddy" and pimp, that he will also come to know the Father...and that they will all be freed.


*Name has been changed to protect the identity and safety of the individual involved.

Cleaning up the club

 A view of some of the private boxes and dancing cages

 A view of the bar as we decorated and cleaned

Sam and Austin worshipping on the strip club stage 

Worship while decorating and final touches: lighting candles 

Flooding that place with worship!

We rented a taco truck to feed ourselves and our guests!

The entrance to the club: Sky Blue

Children of some of the women came

And we fed them too and enjoyed practicing our Spanish to their giggling delight!