12 Lessons // 12 Months

As I have been reflecting on my first 12 months in Brazil, I couldn't help remembering a few (trillion) lessons I have learned in those rapidly passing months. And so, I figured it was only fitting to create a list of 12 lessons learned in 12 months:

1. Portion sizes are larger in the U.S. than in Brazil. When I order a small coffee, I learned to expect that cup to contain exactly two sips and nothing more. 

2. I experienced overwhelming hospitality and love from people who hardly knew me. I was invited over for meals and parties and coffee and movies and I never could express how much that meant to me. 

3. SPEED BUMPS. I BECAME VERY CLOSELY ACQUAINTED WITH SPEED BUMPS. 

4. I learned to live a slower, more patient life. I watched others not grow angry and rude when they had to wait longer than 5 minutes for food or service, and I eventually learned from their examples. 

5. It was learning how to cook or starve, and I chose to learn to cook.  

6. Despite thinking I was going to be the only missionary who couldn't learn the language and have to be sent home in disgrace, I eventually learned. I cried and became frustrated and wanted to give up, but I learned. 

7. I can trust in the sovereignty and faithfulness of God despite confusing or painful circumstances. 

8. My heart is even uglier and sinful than I thought, and holy cow, I am so thankful for grace.  

9. You do not have to be on social media to exist. 

10. Podcasts are a glorious thing. 

11. RAISING A PUPPY IS NOT FOR THE WEAK. 

12. You are going to have to depend on other people more than you are comfortable with, but that's okay, it's uncomfortable because you are growing and becoming a little less prideful.   

(I Wish I Was) Homeward Bound

When I was a kid, I used to watch the 1950's sitcom "I Love Lucy" and aside from Lucille Ball and her incredible acting ability, one of the things I remember most about the show was every time Desi Arnaz would walk in the door and yell, "Lucy, I'm home!" 

Flash forwards a couple of years when my family adopted a black lab we named Lucy. 

Every day after school when the school bus would drop us off at home and we raced each other up the driveway slamming the kitchen screen door behind us we would yell, "Lucy, I'm hoooooooome!" 

For us, it never got old, but I am sure my mother would tell a different story. 

Home, for the majority of my life, has been a white farmhouse nestled next to a green rain-weathered barn on three acres of land. Home has been drafty windows in the winter and tattletale stairsteps when I was coming home past curfew. Home has been lined with pine trees to be used as cabins during the civil war and shelter when trekking into the uncharted west. Home has been vegetable gardens and tire swings.  

But right now, home isn't any of those things. If I am being perfectly honest, I am not sure what home is. 

My apartment in Brazil full of plants and books and a dog I picked up from the street doesn't feel like home yet, but the place I grew up in Indiana doesn't feel like home anymore either. 

I remember as I was preparing to come back to Indiana after my first year in Brazil I kept saying "I am going home" but when I got there, I realized things weren't the same. Time had kept moving. People's lives changed. My life changed. My life of daily tasks and community and conversations was located somewhere else. And no matter how much I wish it could be different, the white farmhouse in Indiana was my parents' home that I could visit for a little while, but it was no longer my home. 

Hebrews 13:14 tells us that Heaven is our only home that lasts forever. 

And so, when it feels like I am a wandering nomad with no place to call home and no land to call my own, I can rest in the truth that anywhere I call home on Earth is a temporary and dim reflection of what my true home in Heaven will be like. 

I think as we get older, we naturally start to realize how unfit this earthly home is. What we once saw with rose-colored glasses as children, starts to show an ugly underbelly as we age. We see corruption. We see injustice. We see deceit. We see sin. We see a world crumbling and full of pain. 

We long for a better home. 

Throughout the Bible Christians are referred to as sojourners, foreigners, strangers, and aliens. (1 Peter 1:1, 2:11-12, 1 Chronicles 29:15, Philippians 3:20). 

I am not a wandering nomad simply because I am caught somewhere between Brazil and America. I am a wandering nomad because Earth itself is not where I belong. 

And the more we realize this, the more we become uncomfortable with this temporary home and begin to long for our eternal home, the home we were created for, the home where we can finally be all that we were created to be in perfect sinless harmony. 

You know that feeling of being home? When people around you understand your background, your culture, share core values and core beliefs and you feel like you can just take a sigh of relief? 

Imagine that times a million when we are finally in Heaven. 

I find myself contemplating the brevity of this life often. I find myself contemplating how, in comparison to eternity, this life is a vapor--here today and gone tomorrow. 

I think I used to put a lot of stake in this earthly home of mine. I had a laundry list of things I wanted to hoard here on Earth to maximize my experience here before God took me to Heaven and I had to sing endless hymns to God forever and ever. (I really did think that was what Heaven was going to be like as a kid I didn't want to go because I thought it sounded boring.) 

But now? My list of things is less important to me. Sure, there are still things I desire to have on this Earth before the Lord takes me home, but that's with the perspective that it is temporary. That I will eventually say goodbye and give back to the Lord what he has allowed me to enjoy for a time. 

I think of it as a traveler on the road. On a road trip, you have a destination. Sure, if you do it well you will stop at all the cute towns along the way and maybe pick up a few trinkets to remember the places in between, but you wouldn't buy an apartment one town into the trip, sell your car and call it a day. You know each stop, each person you meet, and each experience you have is temporary and brief because you have a larger trip, a larger end goal, and what a shame it would be to get so distracted at the souvenir shop in an insignificant town along the way that you never make it to the Grand Canyon at the end of your trip.

Colossians 3:2 tells us to fixate our minds, not on the things of this temporary home, but on the things of our eternal home. 

And so, for me, that means understanding that this feeling of homelessness on Earth is one stop on my way home to heaven. It means not making my white farmhouse in Indiana an idol and a source of my identity, but understanding that Heaven is the only home where I will ever feel completely at peace, completely loved, and completely at home. 

And I don't know when that day will come when the Lord will take me home. It might be today, it might be tomorrow, it might be in eighty years. But no matter when he takes me, I will continue this journey as a foreigner doing my best to make the most of this vapor of a life. 

You are loved and you are not alone, 

S 

Video of my first year in Brazil

Turn That Frown Upside Down

Are there others out there who think life would be easier without emotions or am I just a little bit of a sociopath? 

On second thought, please don't answer that. 

For all you mentally healthy folks out there, the reason I say this is because my emotions make life complicated, both in the wonderful sense, and in the less-than-wonderful sense. 

And it's usually when I am experiencing a less-than-wonderfully complicated moment that I reflect on how easy it would be to accomplish things without emotions.  

Like to-do list stuff? Sure, checking everything off a to-do list would be a whole lot easier without emotions like tiredness, laziness, boredom, etc. But I am more talking about capital letter T things, such as oh, I don't know, deciding to be a missionary, moving to another country, and living a completely separate life from all your family and friends. Strictly hypothetically speaking, of course. 

The other day I watched a video my sister had sent in our family group chat of my niece and nephew. The twins who could hardly string together more than a couple words when I left the country were speaking fully formed sentences. 

And I wasn't prepared for the avalanche of emotions that followed. 

Mourning: Look at all that time with my family that I have missed. I will never get that time back. There are so many moments and memories I will never have with them and that they will never have with me. 

Doubt: Is it worth it, giving up all that time to serve the Lord here? Am I going to regret all the time I missed? Would my life be better if I was there close to my family and friends?

Fear: What if I am missing out? What if everyone back home has a great life and I am stuck lonely and sad on this planet far, far away? 

Super inspirational stuff, I know. They'll put me in the history books right alongside Jim Elliott, Amy Carmichael and Lottie Moon.    

Without those emotions of mourning, doubt and fear, how easy it would be to serve God in Brazil! How easy it would be to follow after him joyfully without thinking about what's going on back home! How easy would it be to agree to spend the rest of my life here without thinking twice! 

But the truth is that it isn't easy. It's a daily decision to believe the promises of God who tells me that my joy is complete in him and not in any specific location or group of people. It's a daily decision to trust in his leading even when it feels like my heart will break from all the things I am missing.   

And the truth is that some days are easier than others.  

I have been serving in Brazil for 10 months. I have missed weddings, births, birthdays and the small daily moments that make up a life, but the number of things I have missed out on are nothing compared to the missionaries with me who have been serving for decades. 

And yet they are still here. Why? 

Over the last ten months, I have asked the other missionaries that question. And they have been honest with me that for a number of years they did want to leave. They prayed that God would bring them back to their family and get them out of Brazil. They were absolutely miserable here. 

And then God changed their desires. God changed their emotions. Now, they love Brazil and have no desire to leave. 

How is that possible? Doesn't the world claim that we can't control our emotions and we are all just helpless victims to every whim and fancy of our hearts? 

But the truth is that we can control our emotions, and more than that, we can actually change them.  

Psalm 37:4 tells us that if we delight ourselves in the Lord, he will give us the desires of our hearts. 

To delight ourselves in the Lord means that we find our satisfaction, our joy, our fulfillment in him. Not in our family. Not in an idealized life or future. Not in a laundry list of things we think we need to be happy.

Once we do this, our desires change. 

Rather than "I need to live near my family" our desires become "I need fellowship with God" 

Rather than "If God doesn't change these circumstances, I will never be happy" our desires become "God is teaching me something through these difficult circumstances, and whether he changes them or not, he is good and all he does is for my good and for his glory. 

Rather than "my joy solely rests in this" our desires become "my joy solely rests in the Lord alone, everything else, the Lord gives and the Lord takes away, and yet, still I praise him." 

 

Okay, so this sounds great on paper, but how does someone practically find satisfaction in the Lord alone?

I think the Lord teaches us this through taking away the things we previously were trying to find satisfaction in, and by causing us to be disappointed by the thing we placed all of our hopes and dreams on.

And it's through the pain of mourning and disappointment that we are forced to look to God, realizing our joy was misplaced all along. 

And if you are stubborn and hard-headed like me, this is a lesson you have to learn over and over and over again.  

Paul tells us in 2 Corinthians 10 that we have the power through the Holy Sprit to destroy every lie and argument against the truth, and we have the power through the Holy Spirit to take hold of our thoughts and make them align with that truth. 

And so, when my thoughts tell me that following God isn't worth the sacrifice, I can take hold of that thought and align it with the truth. 

Philippians 4 also talks about the power we have over our thoughts and feelings. 

Paul says in verse 4-7: "Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Chirst Jesus." 

 

How do we guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus? By the peace of God that comes from rejoicing in the Lord, from prayer, and from thanksgiving. 

Paul goes on in verse 8-9 and says: "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me--practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you." 

How do we get the God of peace with us? By actively thinking about things that are true and putting our faith into practice.  

In verse 6 Paul tells us not to be anxious about anything, proving the power we have over our emotions, and in verses 8-9, he tells us what we are to think about, further proving the power we have over our thoughts and what we meditate on. 

Now, I hope I made it clear through the beginning of this blog that this discipline is not one that I have mastered. There are still days when I mourn, when I question, and when I doubt. There are some days that I do really well taking my thoughts and feelings captive, and there are other days I don't. 

I don't know what my life will look like after these two years in Brazil. I don't know if I will stay here or go back to the states or a completely different country. I don't know if I will commit to being a missionary for the rest of my life or not. To be honest, I don't need to have those answers right now. 

All I need to do now is thank God for his countless blessings in my life, meditate on what is true, and trust in his leading and timing that is perfect. 

And no matter where he leads me, I know he will be there right beside me. 

You are loved and you are not alone, 

Love, 

S 

Comfortable Sinfulness, Uncomfortable Sanctification

My two older sisters and I pouting on the couch circa 1999

I spent my college summers working at Achaius Ranch, a nonprofit horse ranch about 20 minutes from where I lived. The ranch worked with rescued horses and provided free sessions to kids from all over the city. 

The ranch had a motto, and since it has been three years since my summers on the ranch, I cannot remember it perfectly, but the main idea was that learning happens outside your comfort zone. 

In order to learn a new skill, you have to step outside of your comfort zone, challenge your fears, and test your limits. This principle was applied to the horses, to the kids we worked with, and especially to ourselves. 

I found myself reflecting on this the other day when a thought crossed my mind that I was a lot less of an irritable and impatient person before I moved to Brazil. 

From one dirty rotten sinner to the next, can I just tell you that God has been showing me a lot of my sin lately? And just between you and me, can I admit that I felt a whole lot better about myself before he did?

God has revealed impatience where before I would have described myself as someone with a long fuse. He has revealed irritability where I would have described myself as laid-back and easy-going. He has revealed an abundance of pride that I wasn't aware was there. He has revealed a lack of love for others, where before I would have said that loving people was one the easiest things in the world for me to do. 

Why the discrepancy? Have I become more sinful since becoming a missionary?  

No. I have simply become uncomfortable. 

Here's the thing, we can all do a pretty good job keeping ourselves in check when we are comfortable. It requires much less effort to be easy-going and laid-back when there are minimal outside stressors. It's easy to have an abundance of patience and love for others when pretty much everything else in our lives is comfortable. 

I am not saying my life before didn't have problems or stress, but there were stressors that I didn't have before such as language differences, cultural differences, weather differences, community differences, and a number of small things that I never had to think about. 

I also want to make a note that the word "stressor" doesn't have a fundamentally negative connotation, it simply implies something that requires more attention and patience. 

So I don't want to confuse something being "stressful" with something having "stressors"-- Brazil isn't a "stressful" place to live, but it is full of "stressors" that I didn't have before. 

I love living in Brazil. I love the people here. I love the food. I love the other missionaries. I am so grateful that the Lord has brought me here and is allowing me to serve him here. With that being said, it is discouraging to look back on the person I was before I moved here and feel like that person was a better Christian than I am now.

But you do want to know the worst kept secret? The sin God has been revealing in my heart now was always there, it was just easier to hide when things were comfortable.  

When we step outside of our comfort zones, new stressors cause buried sin to bubble to the surface, which makes us realize what's in our heart and our need to deal with it, bringing us to repentance, and allowing God to make us more like him. 

So it could also be said that sanctification happens outside our comfort zones. 

Philippians 1:6 says: "And I am sure of this, that he who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."

That "good work" referred to here is the work of sanctification--the process of making us uncomfortable, revealing sin, leading us to repentance, and causing us to live differently over and over until we die. 

Sound exhausting? Yeah, sure, but the latter is worse. 

C.S. Lewis in his book The Screwtape Letters writes about a fictional world through a series of letters between senior demon Screwtape, and his nephew and junior tempter, Wormwood. The two demons have been assigned to a British man, only known as "the patient" who has recently become a Christian. The two demons write letters back and forth, corresponding on how well they are doing at destroying the man's faith by putting obstacles in his walk with Christ. The demons refer to God as "The Enemy" 

"But, if only he can be kept alive, you have time itself for your ally. The long, dull, monotonous years of middle-aged prosperity or middle-aged adversity are excellent campaigning weather. You see, it is so hard for these creatures to persevere. The routine of adversity, the gradual decay of youthful loves and youthful hopes, the quiet despair (hardly felt as pain) of ever overcoming the chronic temptations with which we have again and again defeated them, the drabness which we create in their lives and the inarticulate resentment with which we teach them to respond to it--all this provides admirable opportunities of wearing out a soul by attrition. If, on the other hand, the middle years prove prosperous, our position is even stronger. Prosperity knits a man to the World. He feels that he is 'finding his place in it,' while really it is finding its place in him. His increasing reputation, his widening circle of acquaintances, his sense of importance, the growing pressure of absorbing and agreeable work, build up in him a sense of being really at home in earth, which is just what we want. You will notice that the young are generally less unwilling to die than the middle-aged and old" (Lewis 154-155).  

Our enemy isn't uncomfortability and we can't use it as a scapegoat for our own sinfulness. Our response to newfound sin as a result of more difficult and uncomfortable circumstances should not be, "I need to remove myself from these circumstances so I can be the Christian I used to be!" 

Instead, we have a more subtle enemy, one that creeps in and kills us before we ever realized what was happening. Our enemy is comfortability--a comfortability in life, a comfortability with our sin (or our perceived lack of it), and a comfortability with where we are at with God. 

This is not to mean that we should seek out suffering or intentionally walk into challenges in order to be sanctified. These things inevitably come. The point is when these circumstances come, because they will, and not just once or twice in our lives, but over and over again, that we don't flee from them, or treat them like the enemy to be avoided at all costs. 

It means embracing the circumstance for what it is, and thanking the Lord that he is using it to sanctify you, rather than allowing you to stay in the rut of unperceived sin. 

It means finally doing that thing God has been prompting your heart to do for many years, but you keep pushing away because you know it will make life very uncomfortable for a while.  

Do I think everyone needs to move to Brazil and be a missionary in order to be sanctified? Absolutely not. Some of you are quicker learners than I am. 

Now, I wouldn't venture to say that the only reason God brought me here was to make me uncomfortable and sanctify me, but it wouldn't be a stretch to say that was one of the many reasons he brought me here. 

I think we all have one or many things that God has laid on our hearts whether that be confronting someone who is living in sin, whether it be confessing sin and seeking forgiveness from someone, or whether it is making a dramatic job or life change, whether it be ending a relationship, or whether it is any number of things that will flip a comfortable status quo and make things uncomfortable and painful for a time. 

Why do we put off these things for so long, when intellectually we know that in the long run, we when we finally obey, we will be glad we did, and even lament how long we put off obedience? 

Because we know uncomfortablility is hard, and unfortunately comfortability is easy. 

And again, intellectually we know that what is easy is not what is best for us, but time and time again the lines between our heart and mind don't always connect and it becomes hard to convince our hearts that what is really needs right now is a big dose of uncomfortability.  

I want to give a final note of encouragement to anyone who also might be walking in similar shoes as me right now. You feel like one big knotted mess of sin and you look back at a more virtuous version of yourself and wonder how it all went wrong. You feel like your circumstances have made you into a worse version of yourself. 

I urge you not to believe that. There isn't anything you are displaying now that wasn't already in your heart. I know that might not feel encouraging but I promise it is. It is encouraging because it proves you aren't someone else, but the same person just a little bit more aware of their need for God's grace. 

And God in his abundant love has allowed you to end your ignorance in a certain area. And God in his abundant love is giving you an opportunity to repent and become more like him. 

Not everyone is given this opportunity, don't waste it. 

You are loved and you are not alone, 

Love, 

S

It's Just What I Prayed For, Thaaaanks

There I was just minding my own, in the midst of the pity party that I promptly penciled in for 2 p.m. Music was playing lightly in the background of my mind, and I could just barely make out the lyrics: "Poor me", "This is so unfair", you know, typical pity party tunes. Then, just when the beat was dropping, I heard a knock on my door. There standing in front of me was a memory from nine months ago, incredulously blinking at me. 

"Hey, not to be a stick in the mud or anything, I know you're having a great time and all, but you DID pray for this like, I don't know, like not even a year ago. Anyway, can I use your bathroom?" 

Cut the music. Party's over. 

Isn't that just the way it always goes? We pray for patience, humility, self-control, or any number of the fruits of the spirit, always forgetting we are at the same time praying for the painful and uncomfortable circumstances that will sanctify us to reap more of that fruit. 

I remember before I ever stepped foot on the mission field, I was praying that the Lord would protect my heart from pride. I had read stories of pastors, missionaries, and those in other positions of ministry ruining a great church, a great mission, and a great ministry with pride. 

Something that once started out as an outflow of love became a pedestal to stand on.  

I remember journaling about many verses in the Bible that talk about doing something for the wrong reasons or with the wrong heart attitude (Matthew 6:1, Matthew 6:3-4, Matthew 6:6, Matthew 6:17-18).

I remember journaling that if I gave up family, friends, country, and comfort all for the wrong reasons then, in God's eyes, it amounted to nothing. I could have just as well stayed home. 

It wasn't easy to leave home. It wasn't easy to say goodbye to everyone I knew and loved. It wasn't easy to step out in blind faith. What a waste of YEARS of my life if I ruined it with my pride. 

I didn't want to come to the end of my life to have God tell me that actions I convinced myself were for the glory of God chalked up to diddly-squat because they were all motivated by the desire to be praised. 

I knew, especially in the Christian world, how easy it is to place missionaries in the category of super-Christians, and I also knew how easy it could be to listen to that praise and then really start to believe that I was something spectacular, and so I prayed that God would help keep me humble. 

Bless my heart, right?

And so, I realized that circumstances I was allowing myself to throw a pity party for, circumstances that I don't like and aren't easy, are humbling me. I realized that God was giving me exactly what I prayed for. 

I am, embarrassingly still in the process of reading the book by Lou Priolo I mentioned a few blogs ago, "People Pleasing: How not to be an 'approval junkie.'"

The other night I was reading a few chapters before bed and the section I read spoke right to the situation I was in and knocked the wind out of me at the same time. The section was on when you feel like your reputation has been hurt. And what really sealed the sucker punch was when he talked about how we respond in our thoughts and emotions when this happens. 

"When your reputation has been damaged, it's easy to spend inordinate amounts of time trying to repair it. Some people are so worried about protecting their reputations that at the slightest hint that someone may have said something bad about them, they go into spin control (e.g., calling people in an attempt to assess the damage, going to other extreme measures to correct misinformation, letting the word out that the rumor was not true, or speaking evil about those who had besmirched their good names). I love what the psalmist did when proud people tried to tarnish his reputation: 'The arrogant have forged a lie against me; with all my heart I will observe Your precepts' (Ps.119:69)" (Priolo 181).   

Is it devastating when your reputation has been hurt? Do you feel the need to win back the good favor of those around you? Do you have a strong desire to correct the misunderstandings and tell everyone your side, whether that desire makes it way to actually creating an action, or just stays in your heart?

Congratulations, you dirty rotten sinner, you have pride!!

I knew and believed that God was sovereign and was my defender (see last blog), but the connection of my brain to my heart was still a little bit of an unstable connection. Some days I felt peace and assurance, other days completely alone and like everything would magically get better if everyone thought well of me.

In my mind, the grand, glittery, sparkly, and capital letter S "Solution" was people seeing the truth about me. The remedy was a restored good favor of people. And while I had placed that in God's hands to do in his own timing, it seemed like my job was just to sit and twiddle my thumbs until he made it around to answering my prayer. 

And in that exact moment, the Holy Spirt showed me the ONLY remedy was ME becoming HUMBLE. 

What a humiliating realization. 

There is no shortage of places in the Bible that talk about pride and the necessity for humility: 

"Everyone who has an arrogant heart is an abomination to the Lord; be assured, he will not go unpunished" (Proverbs 16:5). 

"When the Lord has finished all his work on Mount Zion and on Jerusalem, he will punish the speech of the arrogant heart of the king of Assyria and the boastful look in his eyes" (Isaiah 10:12). 

"Whoever has a haughty look and an arrogant heart I will not endure" (Psalm 101:5). 

"God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6). 

And if that isn't enough, Proverbs 6:16-19 lists the six things the Lord hates and the very first thing on that list is haughty eyes, or pride.  

So how do we choose humility when pride is so deeply ingrained in us?

Priolo lists 4 ways you can "clothe yourself with humility."

1. Give your reputation to God 

"The Greek word, kinosis, means 'to make empty.' The question is, 'of what exactly did Christ empty Himself?' The Authorized and New King James translations focus on Christ's reputation, saying of Him that He 'made Himself of no reputation.' Of course, Christ gave up much more than his reputation when he took on human form, but He was willing to humble Himself, giving up the glory he had previously had with God the Father. A proud person is one who has made an idol of his own reputation. Now, even a humble person may desire to do lawful things that will establish for himself 'a good name' for the cause of Christ. But he gives his reputation to the Lord, knowing that he may choose, for a season, to blemish that reputation so that, in the long run, the cause of Christ may be advanced" (Priolo 180). 

2. Redirect praise back to God and to those individuals whom God has used to help you accomplish your achievements

"If the essence of humility is the realization that God (and others) is responsible for one's achievements, it follows that a humble person will not take credit for things he did not do. Instead, he will see to it that those who are responsible for the good deeds will be given their proper credit" (Priolo 182). 

3. Associate with the humble 

"Romans 12:16 says in part, 'Do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly. Do not be wise in your own estimation.' On what basis do you choose your friends? A people-pleaser chooses a friend largely based on how such friend might improve his reputation. Are you willing to develop friendships with those individuals who, on one hand, can model genuine humility and, on the other hand, can do very little to enhance your social standing? If not, you are out of step with this verse" (Priolo 182-183). 

4. Be a servant 

"A servant's heart is an attitude that seeks to serve others--not for selfish reasons such as a desire to impress people (so that they'll like you) or a fear that if they are not coddled they will reject you, but for their good and for God's glory. It's a spirit of wanting to do what is best for others in light of eternity. It's giving without expecting anything back from anyone. It is serving, knowing your reward for such service will be given to you not by man, but by God--not necessarily in this life, but in the next one. So if you learn to serve others not for self-exaltation, but because you love God and neighbor, you just might find a whole new joy in serving that you have heretofore never known" (Priolo 194). 

And so, my prayer is each day we may small steps to clothe ourselves with humility. I'll be right there with you groggy-eyed and sluggish trying to yank my humility blouse over my un-brushed bed-head, but I will be there.    

You are loved and you are not alone. 

Love, 

S

It's Just a Cliché, Until It's Not

Clichés are one of the seven deadly sins of a writer. 

Clichés are phrases that have been so overused throughout the years that have lost all meaning and impact, and if your writing is full of phrases like "there is always a silver lining" and "everything happens for a reason" and "you have to learn to dance in the rain" your writing will sound empty and scripted. 

One of the most profound lessons I learned in my poetry writing workshops was how to say what I wanted without using clichés, and how to create new emotions and images in a reader's head, instead of running to an overused image or idea that may or may not really get across what I want to communicate.

Clichés are also one of the seven deadly sins of Christian counseling. 

You go in with good intentions of helping someone through grief or discouragement or a challenging season and you end up only sounding like a dollar store greeting card. 

I've heard many people in the midst of something difficult say things like: "If one more person tells me that God is in control I'm going to lose it" or "I don't want to hear that he's in a better place right now" or "It's for the best? Really? Does it look like this is for the best?" 

Those Christian catchphrases, while easy to whip out, are not always helpful to someone going through pain.

The irony of it all is that those phrases are completely and 100% true. God is in control. If that person was a believer, they are in a better place. Everything is for God's glory and his plan (which is the best). 

A couple weeks ago, I sat on my couch hurt, confused and angry. Just moments before a situation exploded like a bombshell. 

I was being blamed for things I knew nothing about. Conversations I weren't involved in or given a chance to clarify were brought up. My character, my integrity and my honesty were being called into question. I looked like a liar, a deceiver, and a manipulator. Four eyes were staring at me waiting for an explanation and I had no words. 

No breath, even. 

I had a clean conscience. I had no lied to, deceived or manipulated anyone. I had made decisions with time and care, with confirmation from the Lord, with prayer and wisdom, with respect for those in my authority.

But conclusions and judgements about me had already been formed, and I could see the skepticism in the furrowed brows of those in front of me while I fumbled over my words, trying to make sense of what was happening. 

I was reduced down to nothing more than a child in trouble. 

But it was in the midst of the pain buzzing loudly in my ears like a swarm of angry bees that a cliché, of all things, came to mind.   

"God is sovereign"

And that overused, cheesy and unassuming cliché brought peace.  

And I realized that clichés are only clichés until God allows us to feel the depth of their truth for the first time. And then all of a sudden, they are not cliché at all. They are profound. They are a lifeline when you feel like you are drowning. They are what get you through one day to the next.  

I have known and believed in God's sovereignty my entire Christian life. I have known God is in control of the entire universe and has the power to change the hearts of men, alter the course of history forever, and answer every single prayer I offer up.  

But for some reason those overused phrases of "God is in control", "God is sovereign" and "He's using this for good" touched my heart in a brand new way. 

I want to make a quick but very important side note that the details of the situation and the people involved in the situation are not important. I want to make it clear that the desire of my heart is not to cause any hurt by sharing this situation, but only to communicate the power of the Holy Spirit who gave me peace despite a difficult circumstance, and the details I share are only intended to show the depth of that work. 

I know many of you have probably been on both sides of a situation like this and can understand how complex an issue like this can be, and how much it can hurt to be the one having to accuse and the one receiving accusations. Many times, there isn't a good guy or a bad guy or a right side or a wrong side, there are just normal people and their feelings. We are all sinful, and we all have faults, and we are all limited by our perspective and personal biases.  

I am not in the business of heart, intention or motive reading. I can't read a person's heart or thoughts or hidden agendas. I don't know the intentions of anyone. I have forgiven everyone involved and am daily working on having a heart posture of joy and thankfulness in spite of what happened. And so please understand there are no villains here and no victims. God is simply using a situation outside of my control to make me more like him.  

This past week I have been listening to Sovereign Over Us  by The Worship Initiative. Some of the lyrics are as follows: 

"your plans are still to prosper/ you have not forgotten us/ you're with us in the fire and the flood/ you're faithful forever/ perfect in love/ you are sovereign over us/ even what the enemy means for evil/ you turn it for our good/ you turn it for our good and your glory/ even in the valley you are faithful/ you're working for our good/ you're working for our good and your glory"

Those truths come from the book of Genesis in the story of Joseph. When Joseph meets his brothers again for the first time since they sold him into slavery many years ago Joseph responds--not in anger toward them for hurting him, treating him unjustly, and attempting to ruin his life--but with grace and love. 

"But Joseph said to them, 'do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today'" (Genesis 50:19-20). 

We see this same truth in the story of Jesus' crucifixion, where Judas' sin and attempts to kill Jesus and destroy his ministry instead brought about salvation for all of mankind and sent the disciples out declaring the gospel to the ends of the earth. 

We see this truth in the persecution of the Christians after Jesus' death. The attempts to stomp out the Christian faith by killing anyone who professed to believe only caused the faith to spread like a wildfire, taking the faith wherever the Christians dispersed. 

This doesn't justify the sin of Joseph's brothers, of Judas or of those who persecuted Christians following Jesus' death. This doesn't mean that God was pleased with the sin or didn't think it was so bad since it helped accomplish his plans. God despises sin and that doesn't stop being true at any point in history. 

God doesn't have an "the end justifies the means" mentality. 

During the last supper, Jesus revealed that one of the twelve disciples would betray him. "For the Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that man if he had not been born" (Mark 14:21). 

Judas was still condemned for his sin even though it took Jesus to the cross and accomplished salvation for all of creation. 

A second cliché came to mind almost instantly after the first: 

"The Lord is my defender" 

And it was only by the power of the Holy Spirit that he allowed me to listen without getting angry, without interrupting, without feeling the need to "prove myself." 

It was only by the power of the Holy Spirit that I was able to sit and humble myself under narrative about who I was, what my intentions were, and what the motivations of my heart were. 

It was only by the power of the Holy Spirit that I allowed myself to be painted into something that I wasn't.  

Why? 

Because I know the things said about me were not true. I know how I was painted is not accurate and I believe God will reveal this in time. 

I don't need to scream or cry or make reckless angry decisions because this won't accomplish anything. I don't need to frantically try to clarify, scrub my name, or change the narrative in others' heads about me because frankly that's not my job. 

I will not defend myself over things that aren't true, because things that aren't true never stand the test of time and the only thing I need to do is exactly what I have been doing--serving God, loving others, and being faithful with what I have been entrusted. 

Is this easy by any stretch of the imagination? Is it easy to walk around knowing people are whispering about you? Believing things that aren't true to your character? 

Of course not. 

It hurts when others say and believe untrue things about you. It hurts knowing your reputation could be unfairly hurt over these things. It hurts to feel like trust has been broken. 

I watched a really cheesy Christian movie a few weekends ago. You know exactly the type I am talking about, but there was a line in that movie that has continued to stick with me. 

One man was talking to another man about what he needed to do in order to live his life right. The other man retorted: "It's not that simple!" And what did the first man say in response? 

"It is that simple. It's just difficult." 

The simple truth is that we forgive--in action and in heart. We forgive and refuse to dwell on the hurt so that we are not tempted to store up bitterness in our hearts. 

Hebrews 12:14 says: "Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God, that no 'root of bitterness' springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled." 

Refusing to forgive by dwelling and storing up bitterness is sin. And no matter how justified or understandable our hurt is, we cannot allow it to justify us sinning in response. 

The simple truth is that standing righteously in front of a Holy God is sufficient. 

We answer to God at the end of the day, at the end of our life. Not to anyone else. Not our friends. Not the people in our church. Not those in our authority. Not our family. God and God alone. 

God is the judge of your heart. Others can misunderstand and misjudge your heart, but that doesn't change what God sees. We strive for holiness and obedience not so that others see that, recognize that and praise us for that, but so that we can stand holy and blameless before a righteous God. 

God is not wasting your pain, he is sovereign over it and he is working it all out for your good and his glory. A little cliché? Maybe, but all the best truths are. 

You are loved and you are not alone, 

S 

The God of Seasons

If you have spoken Christian-ese for any amount of time, you have heard other Christians, or maybe yourself, talk about "spiritual seasons." 

This verbiage is so well known that it shows up in countless Christian songs. A few of my favorites songs that talk about this specifically are Seasons by Tracy Nitschke, Let the Ground Rest by Chris Renzema, and Not in a Hurry by Will Reagan, United Pursuit.

But for as much in my Christian life that I have heard about, learned about, and talked about spiritual seasons, I think my understanding was base at best. 

You see, before, I thought spiritual seasons were just sort of random. Kind of like the weather in Indiana in April--sometimes it snows, sometimes it rains, sometimes it's 70 degrees and you get a sunburn. I didn't see much of a rhyme or reason as to why certain seasons were times full of gut-wrenching pain and others overflowing with blessings, why certain seasons were full of tremendous spiritual growth, and why others were dry and lifeless. 

I knew God had a purpose behind the season I was in. I believed he ordained it, was in control of it and it was ultimately for the good of my sanctification and for his glory. Yes, yes, I believed all of that. I don't say random to mean pointless or trivial but simply that the order is not important.  

But what I failed to notice before, and what I am finally starting to notice now, is the deliberate and logical way seasons come and go. There is a rhyme and reason why the season you are in now came after the one you were in before, and the season you are in right now is preparing you for the season you will soon be in. 

Maybe this seems obvious. Maybe I am just a little dense, but this realization was pretty profound for me. 

The season I was in before the one I am in now was one the most incredible seasons, specifically because of the community I had during that time. The season before that one was completely empty of community. Now I find myself, not totally in want of community, but with far less community than I had last season. 

A few days ago I asked my mom to pray for deeper friendships and a stronger sense of community here. I also shared with her how the girl I felt like I was finally creating a real friendship with might be moving away in the next year. 

She expressed her discouragement for me and how she didn't understand why after such a difficult season in college trying to find a Christian community, and then finally getting it when I moved back home, I had to reenter a season of struggling to find community. 

It wasn't until that moment that the pieces clicked. I responded to my mom that maybe the reason I had that community that I did was so that I would be filled up enough to endure this season without as much community. 

And the more I thought about that, the more little things I began to realize. I realized that during my time living in Crawfordsville I had much more free time. I was able to spend hours studying the Bible, I read a bajillion books (a lot of them were Christian books, challenging books, and books about ministry and missions), I had access to tons of mentors, spiritual leaders, and resources. 

It could be easy for me to look back on that season of my life and think had I not had it so good during that time, the season I am in now would be easier somehow because I wouldn't know any different. If I had just gone from little to no community in college to trying to build community here, it might be easier because it's what I had always known. 

But God specifically wanted me to experience that type of community, that type of growth, that type of being poured into before coming here where building relationships would be set to a snail's pace trying to learn a new language and new culture and find my place in a new city, a new church and a new environment so different than the one I was used to. 

And I truly do believe that the Lord was filling up my cup, brimming and overflowing, to give me everything I would need for this new season of my life. 

Now, I don't want to give a false impression of my life right now. I am not suffering by any stretch of the imagination. I have a very good life here. I have a wonderful guy I get to date. I have familiar faces in Bible study and English classes that are beginning to feel like friends. I have a puppy that gives me a lot of joy despite causing me to lose my patience 47 times a day. I am beginning to cultivate stronger relationships with the women in small groups and within the church. 

I also want to say I know it won't always be this way. I know with more time, more fluency, and more intentionality, I will begin to have the community and deep relationships I so crave. 

And even though I know all of this logically, I still feel lonely. I still feel like I am not really connecting. I still feel like I am on the outside looking in. I still feel like friendships that go past the surface level are just out of reach. 

And I think it's beautiful that I have a God who knows that I shouldn't feel this way, but knows that I do anyway and knew that I would before ever coming here. He knew that making deep connections here would prove more difficult than I was used to and so he made sure to fill up my cup before I left. 

He knew I would be busy here, that I would feel overwhelmed at times, that I would often feel there weren't enough hours in that day, and that simple and quick tasks would become difficult and time-consuming. He knew I wouldn't be able to spend two hours every day reading my Bible and journaling out my prayers and finishing a new book every month, so he allowed the last season I was in to be full of that. 

And how cool that my seasons in college taught me to be content when it's just me and God. 

The words of Philippians 4:11-13 come to mind: "Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me." 

And so I know how to live with and without. I know how to drain my bank account every semester for college and I know how to live comfortably without worrying about paying bills. I know how to have joy and purpose single and I am starting to learn how to have joy dating. 

And maybe that's one of the lesser realized purposes of seasons. Because when we are able to walk through the best and the worst seasons we realize that through the strength and spirit of God, we can learn to be content no matter what the season. 

And the ugly flip-side of that coin is that we can learn to be discontent no matter what the season too. 

And so, as corny or cliché as it probably sounds, we get to choose contentment in this season. Because like all seasons, it's only here for a time. I know soon I will find myself in a new season and it might be harder than the season I am in now, or maybe easier, who knows. 

But you know what I do know? That the seasons of my life that I have been the most overcome with thankfulness and gratitude and joy have not been the ones that have been the most comfortable, the easiest or the ones that looked the best on the outside--they have been the ones that I looked only to God to give me satisfaction, peace, joy, and contentment. 

I also have a somewhat unorthodox opinion that going through unimaginable pain makes the rest of the trials of life that come your way much easier simply because nothing can compare to that. 

I have walked through deep griefs and sorrows and I am still here. I came out on the other side of that season. And not to say I have already gone through the worst seasons of my life (no matter what I say when I am feeling melodramatic and moody) but I have already walked through the hardest seasons I have ever known in my 24 years. 

And if I can learn to be content in those seasons, I can definitely be content now. 

I am thankful for this season. I will be thankful when it ends. I am thankful for what I am learning now. I will be thankful for what this will prepare me for in the next season. 

You are loved and you are not alone, 

S