We're Moving--What It Looks Like to Follow

In December we got the phone call that made it official. Summer of 2021, our family would move back to Georgia.

We had known for over a year this was the direction we might be heading. We had talked about it in brief conversations, always putting it off for another day or month until we just couldn’t put it off any longer.

But that phone call made it very real and very permanent. This chapter is closing for our family and a new one is about to begin.

And before the well-meaning love and excitement of friends and family from the east coast begins to pour in, I need you all to know, I love you, but I don’t want to leave California.

A piece of my heart will always call Georgia home. It’s where the seeds of my faith, beliefs, and family values were planted, watered, and grown.  

But California is where my soul has sung a song I didn’t know I could sing. I have found an intimacy with my Jesus, my husband, my children, and my friendships I didn’t know was possible.

To leave the life we have built here is an act of pure, submitted obedience to how we feel the Lord is leading both Joey and I in our prayers and conversations with the Lord. We go where our God sends us, no questions asked, just trust.

It was the story of the sending of Abraham that moved us out here (Genesis 12), and it is the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac moving me back (Genesis 22).

Because I am not the same person returning as I was when I left. Seven years of my highest highs and lowest lows, of relying on my family of four, of learning to depend upon strangers who became family, of self-reflection and therapy and stretching myself—seven years of talking to God first and more because sometimes He was the only One around to listen. I am not who I was when I left, and my soul longs to stay. The calling of Abraham to sacrifice his promised heir and beloved son feels very relatable with this move. I feel I am being asked to sacrifice all the promises God fulfilled of my own dreams here in California, trusting He knows best and has better plans ahead.

I wanted California to be my Promised Land. I wanted to put down roots here and bask in the beauty of its coastlines, the wonder of the ocean, and majesty of the mountains for all my days. To live here is to have access to adventure and exploration every weekend for the rest of your life. On my down days, my low days, riding waves in the frigid ocean is refreshing, renewing, and rejuvenating. In the chill of the water, the weight of the world washes away, and I’m left like a child with the thrill of the moment right in front of me. I am fully present. Salt, wave, ocean, sunset, bonfire, my children playing, my framily laughing—fully present in the gifts of God in my life. Soaking them all into my being like the sunshine that is always present. Never wishing to be somewhere else.

I love my Peach State home, and in the fall, I will relish the crisp temperatures, the need for fuzzy sweaters, and the sound of leaves rustling. In the spring, I will smile at cherry blossoms and how the world comes alive with green. I will reconnect with family and find joy in the journey of high school for my children, but I’m not sure I will ever not wish to be somewhere else.

Part of me prays that’s not true, that the ache of leaving will fade, and part of me prays I can carry the weight of wanting because the people in California I will want to be with are that dear to me. For them to cease being a part of my life, feels like a death I cannot bear.

There is not a day that passes I don’t shed at least one small tear over saying goodbye, over last experiences here on the west coast, over a chapter in a book that is ending, and you just wish it weren’t. It was that good. It is that good. I’d reread it again and again.  

But there is a peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:6). A peace that only comes from my Jesus Who abides with me daily. We already have a home. The Lord quite literally handed us the perfect house on a silver platter in the middle of downtown Marietta paying below appraisal. If that’s not a modern-day parting of the Red Sea in today’s real estate climate, I don’t know what is. The Lord has given us a peace and a path for sending our kids to Marietta City Schools for education next year. This will be their first experience with public school, and I covet your prayers for them and for me. Again, another choice covered in supernatural peace, shrouded in its own layers of the unknown.

It’s difficult to describe the inner tug-of-war inside my mind, but my soul is at peace. I rest assured God will not lead me anywhere He has not already been Himself, nor somewhere He will not go with me.

We are not told much about Abraham’s emotions, thoughts, or reactions as he made that trek to Mount Moriah with Isaac. Was he angry at God? Did he curse and mumble under his breath as he cut the wood for the sacrifice of his son? Did tears of great grief and fear fall from his eyes as his aged hands shakily packed the knife that would take his son? Did he set his course with eyes fixed full of hope knowing His God was true, no matter the cost? We don’t know.

And I think we don’t know because it doesn’t matter. Abraham’s emotions, reasons and thoughts were all secondary to his obedience. In the end, how he got to the point of obedience was not as important as the actual act of walking by faith and loving nothing on this earth more than he loved God.

I want that kind of faith and trust in Jesus as my legacy. I have screamed and wept and hoped also on this journey to leave California, but in the end, what will matter, what does matter, is our family will obey and follow in faith where the Lord leads, no matter the cost. I have no reason to believe my Jesus will not provide every step of the journey, one moment at a time. He has already gone before us. He has already made smooth so many rocky paths. He has remained true and so must I.

Like so many stories in the Bible, Abraham’s is not just a story, it’s an example to follow. It’s the instructions to life we so desperately seek, crave, and beg God to give. He already has. He’s given us all we need for life and godliness in the scriptures and the Holy Spirit, all made possible by the death and resurrection of his only begotten, beloved Son (2 Peter 1:3, 2 Timothy 3:16). Maybe one of the things I love most about my Jesus is He never asks me to walk the path of an experience He does not already know intimately Himself (Hebrews 4:15). The details may look different, but the emotions of the heart are the same. He knows what it takes to do what He asks from first-hand experience.

Why would I not follow? How could I ever think I have a better plan or better way? Where He goes, I go. His people will be my people, and His land my land (Ruth 1:16). ‘Til death we unite. To live is Christ and to die is gain (Philippians 1:21). The older I get, the longer I follow, the more that phrase makes sense.

What do you choose to follow so passionately you willingly sacrifice all that is most dear to you? Is it worth it? My Jesus is always worth it.

Own Your Story

Three years have passed since I first penned the following words. Three years. I don’t live in this dark space as much as often anymore, but I still do the work to keep the darkness at bay. Every day.

Someone reading this needs to hear these honest words. I know I’m not alone. I know depression threatens the life force of so many in our culture—another weapon of Satan’s to deaden our souls. Yet when cast at the feet of Jesus, He has used it as a tool to soften and sharpen me at the same time. In Jesus’ hands, my struggles with depression have grown me, matured me, and drawn me closer to Him. He is my True Savior in every way.

So read these words with grace and compassion for those you may know who also struggle. For those who battle silently, maybe even yourself…...

 

 “I live inside a cage my mind has built. I’m not sure when the cage started to form. I could point to early signs of anxiety in middle school, so one could blame hormones and puberty. I could point to an OCD like ambition in school, a need for perfectionism that I’m sure docked years off my life as I lived utterly stressed until I graduated Summa Cum Laude from college. Those words look nice on a diploma now, but they carry no weight, no meaning--just a reminder that I lost sight of life going on around me earlier than some.

I got married soon after and discovered I was equally good at analyzing myself and my husband as I was my schoolteachers and assignments. Living life became a subject to analyze and respond accordingly in order to pass. No wonder when the unexpected adult disappointments in life began to pile up, I was emotionally unprepared to fail. And failure took its toll.

I failed. Often. Over and over again. I became keenly aware and scarred by every failure.

If someone reading this hears one thing in this message, hear me say I desperately want to be rid of the negative, fatalistic, dream-killing attitude I have toward life sometimes. I WANT to be my biggest cheerleader because I’m everyone else’s. I desperately desire for my feelings to match the good actions and choices I choose to make in life. I’ve prayed for relief, for healing from this mind curse. I’ve begged God to increase my faith, so that doubt and second guessing and paranoia wouldn’t cloud my judgement. That my energy wouldn’t be sucked away from inward mind battles--battles spent capturing every thought, all the time, 24/7.

And so far, God has only answered all my prayers with a therapist, some anti-depressants, and now a psychiatrist referral. How did this happen? Why is this happening? Is this who I’ve always been? I don’t think so. In my mind’s eye, I may have been stressed for most of my life, but I was happy. I think I was. Was I? Depression makes you doubt everything about yourself. It skews reality, casting long dark shadows over the brightest memories, and promising nothing but rain clouds on the horizon.

And so, I take the meds, and I make and keep the appointments, but I grieve for the person I use to be so many years ago. I grieve the loss and dampening of her drive and spirit. I grieve because she had a great life and good years surrounded by good people. I grieve because I’ve prayed for her to be returned to me, and my answer is therapists, drugs, and a psychiatrist.

And I’m angry. Angry that this is the answer to my prayers. Angry that the mind God gave me is being given this weight to carry, this thorn in the flesh. We all have our “thing” I’m told, and I’m seething mad that mine is depression. 

So, I guess I’ve hopped around all over the stages of grief over this topic for many, many years now. The only stage I’ve never landed in is acceptance. How do I accept that my children will grow up with a depressed mother? How do I accept that my husband may never have the bride of his youth again? He deserves so much better. How do I accept that this disease of the mind will bleed into and taint every relationship I choose to make from here on out in my life? How do I not crawl into a hole and give up? How do I ever regain my energy for life when it’s being spent daily on managing my mind? How do I accept this new reality?

I don’t know.

My favorite devotion, Streams in the Desert, says, “Unbelief continually asks, ‘How can this be possible?’ It is always full of ‘how’s’, yet faith needs only one great answer to even ten thousand ‘how’s’. That answer is--GOD!” 

God. Jesus. The Bible.

Such simple answers to all the difficult questions. I used to be ok with these answers. I used to trust them unwaveringly. The core of me still does, but life has taken its toll. Unexplainable, unfathomable tragedies have left their doubts embedded deep in my faith. Oh, me of little faith. “Lord, increase my faith and help me to believe again with the fervor of my youth.” All these realities I confess and lay before the feet of my Jesus. I pray these prayers and hope and look for signs of healing.

Acceptance looks like, maybe, that I’m not supposed to be healed. I will be helped, never alone, never forsaken, never devalued in the sight of my King, but never healed. Oh, me of little faith? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Not this time. I think acceptance looks like being able to admit I have chronic depression and not just resign myself to a life of managing it but choose to commit myself to a life of managing it. Instead of being depression’s hapless victim, I must trust that my God is bigger, claim His victory over my life, and walk like I am more than a conqueror in Christ Jesus my Lord (Romans 8:31-39), gaze shifted high and fixed on the eyes of my Jesus who loves me with an undying, unchangeable, relentless love. He will not fail me though I will fail Him.

My mind may churn and spin, but Jesus is not chaos. He is a Strong Refuge, an Anchor, a Rock, and He is mighty to save (Zephaniah 3:17). He makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters. (Psalm 23)

My outlook on life may weigh heavy with what is bleak, but Jesus is Light in the darkness (John 1:4-5). He is Hope (1 Peter 1:3-6). His yoke is easy and burden light compared to going it alone without Him (Matthew 11:28-30). When I walk through the valleys of deaths in all forms in this life, His rod and staff comfort and guide me.

My body grows weak from this physical fight, but my Jesus is Strong. He is the embodiment of all Strength. He will give me the gift of Himself to help me bear up under that which is too much for me to bear alone. He will give me the wings of the eagle to soar (Isaiah 40:31).

All these truths I know, but do not feel. That doesn’t make them lies.

Acceptance looks like choosing joy instead of feeling joy. When I figure out what that looks like practically, I’ll let you know.

Acceptance looks like me owning this part of my story and being willing to share it, instead of hiding in the shame of the stigma.

Accepting this new reality is scary and hard, and maybe I won’t. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be better. Yet acceptance knows that is a lie. There is no “better” when it comes to depression, there is managed. The question isn’t, ‘Do I feel better today?’, the question now becomes, ‘Am I managing well today?’ 

Accepting this new reality means not getting offended when people close to me ask if I’ve been taking my medication. Accountability and support are vital for anyone who is sick.

Acceptance looks like owning this as part of my story, but not letting it define who I am in Christ.”

 

…… And this is the path I have traveled. Will travel. For three years, I have taken a pill every morning when I put on my deodorant. For three years I’ve check in with a therapist at minimum once a month. I exercise regularly. I watch what I eat. I know my triggers and the signs of an impending crash. I can ask for solitude, and I schedule self-care and sabbath.

But most importantly of all—of all the work, of all the treatments—I spend time with my Jesus. Every day in some way. He is crucial to my mental health. He is the foundation making all the other treatments effective. They are all necessary, but He is essential. Without Him at the foundation of it all, the treatments fail in my own strength. They are not enough because without the source of His power in my life, I am not enough. Anyone trying to convince themselves otherwise is sadly mistaken and foolishly misled.

Today, I don't feel healed from depression, but I am at peace with how the Lord has chosen to help me. He may choose to heal me completely one day because He can, but if He doesn't, His grace is sufficient for today (2 Corinthians 12:9). I'm not angry anymore about popping a pill every day. I'm not ashamed either. Acceptance is still a work in progress. Finding joy and feeling it still a journey, but one I don't walk alone. Never alone (Matthew 28:20).

We are a world surrounded by embattled hearts and minds. Tread lightly. Recognize the rock of judgement heavy in your hand before you throw it. And maybe more importantly for some, remember to give yourself the grace you give to others so well.

How will you tap into the Source of acceptance and ownership of your thorns in the flesh? Your hard things? Today, how will you show grace toward someone who’s trying to reach their point of acceptance and ownership? How can you be Jesus or give Jesus to someone today, even if that someone is yourself?

 

He Uses It All

It's been eight years today since the Lord took her home. This year the sadness didn't build and crash like a tidal wave.  It is present and under the surface, but my walk with the Lord over the last eight years has grown an acceptance of her loss like moss on a stone. The acceptance helps take the edge off the sharp edges of grief. Instead of a tidal wave, this week is a strong surf week--manageable. 

Part of me doesn't appreciate this new found softness. It still feels wrong, like a betrayal, to not ache and hurt today the same as I did eight years ago. It feels like I love her less or have forgotten her more if the pain isn't as acute, but that's not true. If anything, I may love her more today than I did eight years ago.

Because the other thing I have a hard time admitting--I wouldn't be the person I am today had her death not turned my world upside down and inside out. 

I like the person I am today. Her death was the catalyst for a deeper relationship with the Lord I'm not sure I would have sought. The struggle through the darkness of the grief and the reality of depression's hold in my life have made me stronger and wiser. Carrying, feeling, and living through the pain, despite the pain, has taught me lessons about compassion and hope no other circumstances could have taught.

I HATE that eight years later her death has been the life event I attribute to molding me into a better human being. I would gladly give up all the growth I've experienced in the last eight years just to hug her neck again. 

But then, it's not about what I want. It never has been. It never will be. It's about the person God wants me to be. It's about the masterpiece my Jesus is creating with my life for His purposes, and only He knows the tools and life lessons and ways and methods needed to accomplish His end result. Only He can take the horrible and make it beautiful in time, in ways no one thought to look. Whether He caused her death or allowed her death really makes no difference. The truth is He has continued to make beauty from ashes, to work life for good for those of us who have called on His name in our hours of need.

And I'm only one witness to her life. One story. There are more. So many more.

Though our loved ones leave us, God still uses them to further His purposes through us, through our stories. We honor them with lives well-lived. We honor their lives by battling our grief instead of hiding from it. No, we live to tell the story of another day, to tell their story another day. Whether our story is one of personal defeat or victory, the power and redemption comes from having a story to tell, to share, to live. So both our deepest lows and highest highs have the same redemptive value when you own your story and share it.

Their deaths only lose meaning when the ones they leave behind stay stuck in the past and don't press forward into the future. Too many bitter, pitiful souls have gotten lost in the quagmire of unprocessed grief. When you're stuck in the muck, you lose sight of your purpose all together, and it takes work and support to escape.

"Thank you Jesus for orchestrating circumstances that made me work hard to move through the grief. Thank you for the support You Yourself provided in Yourself and through Your people who prayed, hugged me through tears, and just walked with me. Thank you that my life can be a testimony to the fact that her death wasn't a waste. Help me to continue to honor her story with my story by submitting to Your story for us both. In the same way Father, may my life be a testimony to the fact that Your death wasn't a waste either. May the good in my life always reflect Your glory and my sin testify to Your grace and forgiveness. Continue to use it all, Lord--the ugly deaths and beautiful births and everything in between. Use it all and use me too, Father."

Christmas Letter 2018

Dear Family and Friends,                                                                                         December 1^st, 2018

This year literally started with one of the best days ever—watching the Georgia Bulldogs win at the Rose Bowl. It was a perfect day, seeing the Rose Bowl Parade beforehand, enjoying our children (8 and 10) cheer at their first Bulldogs game, watching a magnificent sunset that God orchestrated over the stadium. For this Georgia family who loves our California home, it was the best of all worlds. Today, 11 months later, as I sit here pondering how I will share a glimpse of what came next, I can’t help but be grateful that is how this year started. God’s gifts are good gifts that sustain even in the hardest days, and for that I am grateful.

Both kids have thrived and grown in hard and good ways this year. Savannah (11) is still our family muse. Her creativity, love of music, and all things fun keeps our family in constant motion. She has impressed me this year with her natural ability and boldness to communicate her opinions and share her ideas. She tackles whatever challenge that is set before her with determination and zeal, and she doesn’t get discouraged nor give up easily. This has been evident in her piano playing, her school work, learning to surf, tumbling classes, passion for baking, and even in her friendships. All these characteristics are admirable, but on some days can be exhausting to parent, so your prayers are felt and appreciated 😉She is a joy and a marvel and a challenge, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. God uses her to draw others to Him with her natural magnetism and ability to lead. May this always be true.

Weston (9)’s personality as a young man of character has also started to bloom this year. Watching him grow as a sportsman on the soccer field has been a gift. I’ve seen my son hit lows then rally to turn them into highs. Whether in soccer, piano, art, engineering with Legos, or working toward straight A’s in school, excellence is his goal.  While he often hits the mark, it’s been in the moments of disappointment this year that I’ve seen the most growth. While I’m terribly proud of all his accomplishments, I may be prouder of how he’s been working to accept and move past the inevitable hardships that have come his way. He also never lets the hard things make him hard. His heart is as soft and sensitive and loving as ever. I know this is because He loves Jesus first. May this always be true.

Joey, as always, continues to be the even keel rock in our family. From what I can tell, he is well-respected in his area of work with Chick-fil-A, and he has continued to accept the responsibilities they give him with integrity, passion, and strength. He loves what he does, the operators he serves, and the people he works with and for. As a father, he is adored. I couldn’t ask for a better role model for our children. His unique ability to communicate with our family is invaluable because he teaches all three of us how to be better communicators, which in turn, enables us to grow in healthy ways. As a husband, well, there’s not enough space in this letter for me to list what he has meant to me and been for me this year. He has pressed into a hard season in my life and patiently, lovingly worked his way into my heart. He is truly my best friend and biggest cheerleader and safe place. Grateful and blessed to follow his lead because he leads well.

As for me, my words for this year didn’t come to me until a month ago. Acknowledge and Accept. This is the path God has walked me down. I’ve spent the past five years grieving in some format or another, on some level or another, and this year I realized that I’ve been striving on some level to fix the grief in my life, to make it stop, go away, feel better. I’ve wrestled with God and myself and stayed so much in my head that my head finally exploded. Cleaning up the explosion has looked like meds and therapy and doctor appointments and exercise and eating right and communion with Jesus and getting vulnerable with His people. It’s looked like doing a lot of sitting and talking to God out loud in my car, talking to my therapist, and talking to my husband, letting them all inside the really ugly spaces of my heart. Acknowledging and accepting that this is my path, and this is my journey, and this is part of my story that God is writing has been my path to freedom and experiencing joy again.

Acknowledging and accepting that I can feel deeply, that it’s ok to feel deeply, and not have to hold myself responsible for doing anything with those feelings except just feel them. Acknowledge those feelings. Accept those feelings, express them as needed to those whom God leads me, and then let them go and sit in the knowledge that God made me this way, and it is for His good purposes that I feel; therefore, it is His responsibility to show me what to do with those feelings, not mine.

There is freedom and joy in letting go and letting God take over. This take over for me has occurred in the quiet, in the still, in the lonely, in the depths of the dark and deep recesses of my heart and mind where God has found me and been with me and held my hand as I acknowledged and accepted the path of hard truth He is walking me down, hand in hand. Not once have I felt judged or less than in His eyes or Joey’s. My God and my man have been nothing but gentle to me.

Which is why today I can sit here grateful for the journey I am on. I’m still right in the middle of it. Meds and therapy and all, but I can say that I accept my struggle with anxiety and depression as part of God’s story for me. I can look back on this year and be grateful for the small conversations it has allowed me to have that ministered to someone else walking the same path. I can be grateful I’m not fighting myself anymore because there is peace in acceptance. I am grateful for the gift of compassionate tears that God has given me the ability to shed. I like to think that every tear I’ve shed for someone else is one that person maybe didn’t have to shed themselves. I’m grateful to feel deeply. It’s not something about myself I need to fix or change; it’s something about myself I need to acknowledge, accept, and allow God to shape for His glory.

What is it you need to acknowledge, accept, and allow God to be present in with you this Christmas season? Isn’t that the message of Christmas? Emmanuel, God with us. How are you allowing God to be with you? The birth of Jesus was His greatest gift to us all—His very Presence incarnate, on earth, to be held and touched and felt and enjoyed and loved. Even in the hard places of this life, how are you accepting the presence of God into your world? He is a True Gentleman. He stands patiently at the door and knocks, never forceful, always gently persuasive, always there. What door will you open in this next year to let Him in? All He wants to do is be with you because He created the path that you are on. He planned the journey. Can you acknowledge and accept His control of the way He created?

I did a crazy, meaningful thing to me this year. I tattooed a piece of artwork on my left shoulder that represents my journey toward joy in the Lord. So, I will leave you with the four Scriptures on the compass of my tattoo. May they encourage you to find and seek Jesus in this season and the year to follow.

“You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand there are pleasures forever.” Psalms 16:11

“The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life.” Job 33:4

“The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork.” Psalms 19:1

“He continued, “Go home and prepare a feast, holiday food and drink; and share it with those who don’t have anything: This day is holy to God. Do not grieve. The joy of the Lord is your strength.” Nehemiah 8:10

Wishing you and your family a day of joy amid blessing or hardship to enjoy the good things the Lord has given!

Merry Christmas,

Joey, Jennifer, Savannah & Weston Durham

P.S.-Mad props to my husband who helped design the Christmas card this year. I’m sure you’ll appreciate his personal touch 😉Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from the Durhams!!!!!!

Family photo credit goes to Katie Morrow. Thank you for making it fun.

katiemorrowphotography.com

Where I Am

I had a sneaky suspicion when the first day of 2018 was the most perfect day ever that the rest of the year was downhill from there, but we always hope for the best, right?

Sigh.  Well, I've found myself in the middle of one of the hardest years of personal growth in my life. Like ever. I'm learning things about myself that I don't like. Ugly things. Hard things. Things like...

I'm not strong, I'm just really good at trying to control my environment.

This causes me to be anxious, not what I've labeled as stress my whole life. (FYI, stress is something to be managed outwardly, anxiety is a sin of the heart.)

I don't know how to deal with disappointment. I'm deeply afraid of disappointing everyone in my life, and then unable to handle the emotions that come crashing when they disappoint me.

This causes deep bouts of depression because when you're constantly aware of the inner workings of life around you (both my gift and my curse), you are constantly disappointed in something or someone, and most often that is myself.

I don't know how to communicate effectively with the people in my life. I express myself with so much emotion and deep conviction that I'm pretty sure it's off-putting for most people to receive. Learning to bridle and train these emotions to speak graciously is hard work, so I most often opt to not speak at all for fear of burdening those around me with my emotions. (The people in my life who love me best, allow me to cry and still hear my heart. For them, I am deeply grateful.) But opting to not speak has also left me feeling unheard most of my life.

It's deeply concerning how much I deeply desire to be heard, truly seen, and known and accepted just the way I am. 

Enter Jesus.

It's no coincidence that my time with the Lord this year has led me to these books. This is where the Lord has me rooted and growing, learning to accept who He made me to be and how to allow Him to use it for His glory.

Currently, I'm reading through the Psalms for like the hundredth time in my life because a depressed person needs the psalms. David was the ultimate example of how to honestly express all that you are feeling and still glorify God.

Streams in the Desert is a perfectly titled devotion that has encouraged and challenged me throughout the low points in my life. God meets me in these pages and gently reminds me life will be hard, but He is greater and He is good.

Strong Women Soft Hearts. Wow. If you've got a group of ladies that you can be real and honest with, a small group that loves you unconditionally, grab them and dive in to this book. I am challenged and encouraged by the way God is using this book to grow me, but I need the accountability of the friends I'm doing it with, or I would have tossed it a long time ago! 

How We Love workbook. I read the book, which is excellent, very insightful, but the hard work has come in inviting my husband to work through the workbook together. Our marriage has never been better, closer, or more intimate. It's taken seventeen years of married life to get us to the point where we can stomach this book together, maturely, but I'm loving diving into every hard truth revealed, with him right there with me. It might take us 10 years to work through the whole book with as often as we have time to discuss it, but it kinda makes me look forward to every conversation for the next 10 years!

When God Doesn't Fix It is the book I read in small chunks at night, on an airplane, or in moments when a screen just doesn't seem like the best choice. The very practical, straightforward debunking of myths and statement of truth at the end of every chapter has given me food for thought in all the best ways.

I've been on a personal journey to find and understand the true meaning of joy for quite some time. What I didn't bargain for was that Sorrow and Suffering would be my companions on this journey. Seems a bit ironic doesn't it? That in my quest for Joy, these are what I have encountered.

Yet, my Jesus has been with me every step of the way. Not once have I felt abandoned or condemned by Him. I condemn myself enough as it is, and even on the days when I fully expect Him to condemn, chastise, or discipline me because I've screwed up royally, instead I am constantly surprised by His constant, gentle presence that reminds me He made me and He sees me and He knows me and He loves me just the way I am.  Sinful, messed up, confused, not enough, struggling--He loves this me, right now, right here in the midst of the mess of where I am.

My Jesus is not a demanding Master, He is a patient Encourager reminding me that I may be weak, but He is Strength. I may be anxious, but He is Peace. I may be disappointed, but He is Able. I may be overwhelmed by my short-comings, but He is Greater. He is the Answer to every problem I encounter. Joy is found in not just finding Him again and reconnecting with Him, but it is found in the slow, hard work of abiding with Him through it all.

For the last six months, I've been paralyzed to share my heart because I've felt like I've been in the middle of the struggle. The story will be shareable when I have a happy ending to proclaim God's inevitable victory and glory in my life. God is gently telling me to share my story anyway because His glory is evident and real even though I don't have a happy ending yet. 

I may struggle with anxiety and depression the rest of this life. Jesus is teaching me to accept this, so He can use it. You cannot surrender what you do not accept. Maybe one day I will write the story of how He saved me and freed me from the dark emotions that overwhelm me some days, but for now, I think He just wants me to be honest with who I am now, in this season, for today--struggling, but still in love with Him. 

I had a sad day yesterday, for no particular reason (which I hate, by the way. I've lived my life believing there's a reason for everything, and now I'm learning that may not be true?--whatever I digress, another blog for another day...) I had a sad day. And in the midst of all the dark, deep, overwhelming emotions that beckoned me to crawl in bed and hide, I suddenly--literally--threw up my hands in angry surrender, and spoke out loud, "Lord, if I have to feel all these emotions will You at least use them for Your glory?" And to that, He said, "Yes."

And today, I write for the first time in a long time because even though I have no idea who reads this blog (because that doesn't really matter anyway), this is just one space where He gets the glory, and that feels right and good and chips away at the pointlessness of life that a depressed person often feels deep in their soul. My life isn't pointless if He gets the glory. I have to believe that. It has to be true.

Where are you? Really? You may believe no one really wants to know the real answer to that question, but I do. God does. Who can you share the real you with today? the vulnerable you? the you God created for today? Someone needs you to stop hiding and waiting for the happy ending to share because I'm starting to believe God gets the glory in the middle of the mess too.

Who Are You? What Do You Do? How Do You Get Paid?

I am a child of God. A child needs time with their Daddy. Just to be in His presence, sit by His side, talk life, dream, wonder, question, seek counsel. I need to sit in His lap and just rock in His rocking chair and listen to Him sing over me. I get paid in unconditional love.

I am a prayer warrior. A prayer warrior needs silent space to fill with weeping and pleading, praising and thanking, confession and soul-searching. It is my only safe outlet for my gift of discernment. I need time to intercede, standing in the gap on behalf of others and myself. I need space to bend knees and bow my head in deep talks with my heavenly Father. I need time and silence in order to hear Him speak back. I get paid in true communion and intimacy.

I am a wife. A wife needs time to connect with her husband....in so.many.different.ways. I need time to pour into my best friend, and he into me. I need time to serve him and be his helpmate in all the different forms that takes. I need time to be loved and to love him like Christ. I get paid in devotion and faithfulness.

I am a Mama. A mom needs time to invest, enjoy, and be intentional with her kids. I need to bottle time and treasure moments. I need time to study and pray, discipline and train, smile, laugh, and have fun. These golden years of littles are fleeting. For now, I get paid in occasional unprompted "I love you"s, but mostly I just make deposits into accounts I hope produce exponentially grown returns in years to come. Only time will tell.

I am a Barnabas, a friend. A Barnabas needs time to invest in others. Whether through texts, phone calls, emails, lunches, play dates, or dinners, I need time to encourage others and be encouraged by others, to build community and relationships with people different and similar to myself. I get paid in encouragement and camaraderie.

I am a Paul, a mentor. Outside of my children, a Paul needs time to give back and invest in others younger in life or in their faith or both. I need time to feed off their energy and new cultural knowledge, and maybe they can learn from my mistakes. But I know I need time to influence. I get paid in purpose and fulfillment.

I want to be a Timothy, a mentee. I want time in my days to listen and question and be encouraged by my own Paul, by women older and wiser and more experienced, and maybe I'll find time to avoid some heartaches by avoiding their mistakes, and find more to life by valuing things they find valuable. I think my payment would be wisdom.

I am an emotional thinker. A borderline empath. I need large amounts of space and time to capture, evaluate, and submit my feelings and thoughts unto the Lord. This requires outlets in which to funnel this energy. Therefore...

I am a writer. A writer needs words and a blank canvas. I need time to vent, fume, spill, scream, cry, pray, rejoice, contemplate, meditate, digest over life. I implode if I don't take this time. I get paid in peace and clarity of heart, mind, and soul.

I am an athlete. An athlete needs time to train, sweat, stretch, sprint, push limits, rest, and recover. I need this healthy outlet for my aggression, irritations, and frustrations. I need those emotions to be forced out in sweat and jaws locked in determination. I need something difficult to press into, to build that perseverance muscle. I get paid in strength of body and mind.

I am a lover of nature. A nature lover needs time on long stretches of sandy beaches with only the sound of the waves to keep me company. I need long hikes on unknown trails going unknown places just so I can listen to the rustle of the wind and study the rise and fall of mountain ridges. I need to be on the water, in the water. I need to be near creatures great and small, watching them in wonder and curiosity. I need time to commune with my Creator through His creation. I get paid in serenity and joy.

I am an artist. An artist creates--anything and everything. I need time to make photo albums, decorate my home, make a card, color a picture, build with Legos, craft with my kids, paint, cut, glue, arrange. I get paid in beauty and accomplishment.

I am a student. A student needs time to study, time to explore, space to ask questions and learn new things. I was once a student who made straight A's, now I'm a student of life, and it's hard to tell most days what kind of grades I'm making, but the love of learning never fades. I get paid in knowledge and understanding.

.......

And why, you may ask, do I feel the need to define these things? Because we live in a world, in a culture, that defines us by what we do and the benefit (or payment) we receive for ourselves or contribute to the world from what we do. And as a stay-at-home mom, especially now that both my kids are in school full time, there are days I wonder if I could do more, be more--should do more, should be more.

I struggle to define to others how I spend my time and why it's not a waste of time. I struggle because I know incredible working moms who are all these things AND they work a full-time job. But as I reread over this list, I realize that this is who God made me to be. This is MY capacity, MY passions, MY callings for this season of life, and yes, I am all these things every day. Not some days. Not one day a week or a few days a week. I am all these things every day in some form, in some capacity.

*And you know what, when I type it out, when I define it and call a spade a spade, this is a lot of work! And it's good work. Solid work. Fulfilling and meaningful work. Not useless. Not unimportant. Not forgettable. 

And my wages are pretty, freaking amazing also! I may not get paid a single, physical penny, but I am getting paid in full in ways some people spend their whole lives longing for. Unconditional love, communion, intimacy, devotion, faithfulness, encouragement, camaraderie, purpose, fulfillment, wisdom, peace, clarity, strength, serenity, joy, beauty, accomplishment, knowledge, and understanding--I want for nothing in the wages department. 

I needed to write it out though. I needed to see it to understand it, to believe it, to feel it. To fight the voices that always tell me I'm not enough.

Maybe you do too. Who are you? What do you do? How much do you get paid?

*This list is also written in the order of priority for me. Are they always lived out in this order of priority? Absolutely NOT! Most days not. But a balanced, healthy me would live these out in this order, so it does give me something to aim for. If this list had remained an ethereal thought or moral goal (like it has been for so long), I think that's exactly what my life would have resulted in--good intentions with no true action. 

Writing it out like this helps me see where I need improvements. In life you are always choosing to cheat someone or something for someone or something else. When one job moves up the list in priority, another job is getting knocked back down the list; therefore, if life feels like it's lacking joy, maybe I need to bump time in the outdoors back up the list a little ways.

What are your daily priorities? Are you intentionally living to make the most of the days you've been given?

*This list also tells me about me. I often wonder why I wrestle with loneliness and longing for more interactions with people in my life, but the truth in this list is if I'm spending the majority of my time loving the Lord by investing in things I'm passionate about, there's not much time left for more people. Many of the things I love and enjoy require nothing more than space, time, silence, and my heavenly Father. And that's me, and that's ok.

I also often wonder why I wrestle with a need and a desire to be seen, to be known, to be thanked and appreciated, yet this list reveals that what I love to do, how I truly want to spend my time are in areas that do not require acknowledgement. The things I love are very solitary in many ways. To try to orchestrate ways of being thanked would be manipulative and weird. God sees me. He's the one I'm spending most of my time and days with, and He chooses to do more for me than just a pat on the back, He pays me in full. Every day.

I have to believe that the work the Lord calls me to do through prayer and communing with Him alone is equally as important as all of my dear friends whose days are filled with laughter and conversations and service in direct contact with others.

I have bought the lie for too long that my prayers and journaling are useless.

This is who I am for this season, for today. The Lord is forever at work molding, reworking, breathing new life, revealing new dreams, adding to this list of who He created me to be. I'm still discovering who I am in Christ, but seeing this in black and white has helped me accept and embrace who I am in a different way. Blogging about it helps me put feet to the idea that it doesn't matter what others think of me, only what God thinks of me.

And it's been a while since I've written anything or at least put it out there to the masses. I've been praying the Lord helps me find my voice again, and this helps. Maybe it's an exercise that would help you too.

Who are you? What do you do? How do you get paid? 

Christmas Letter 2016

Dear Family & Friends,     

We love California. Living here is a gift from the Lord. One we never even knew we needed.  There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t breathe in the blue skies, sunshine, and 70degree temps and thank the good Lord that this is my home for this season of life. This year especially, I’m grateful for this daily blessing of beauty and serenity because a more truthful confession is this has been one of the hardest AND one of the best years of my life all in one. I’ve lived out both sides of the coin, moment by moment on some days. Some days and moments were heads up, and many days and moments were tails up, head buried. So when you read this letter, I pray you hear an honest voice and see an honest glimpse into the life of a family that at the end of the day, the end of the year, just loves Jesus and wants you to love Him too because His presence has taught me how to persevere with joy this year.

Perseverance. He gave this word to me in January in the middle of the study of Revelation in Bible Study Fellowship (BSF).  At the time, I figured it was just the word I needed in order to finish strong the study (not an easy book to study!), a word that reflected what was required of God’s people throughout the book of Revelation. Ah, but it has represented so much more. Through the comingling of joy and struggle, God is teaching me the unsurpassed beauty and treasure of perseverance.

Perseverance, endurance, stick-to-it-ness, steadfastness. Words our present culture respects from a distance, but no one gets too close, and most people try to pass them by. Those words have teeth. They hint at something hard and negative, sounds like work. Those words require a way of living that isn’t fast-paced, constantly changing, full of options and instantly microwavable results. No, these words produce a character quality in someone that makes them resilient and rooted and strong and beautiful.

Savannah got her first set of braces in January, and I watched her persevere all year with an amazing attitude and acceptance. The braces came off in November and her teeth are beautiful. I’ve watched her persevere in swimming, tennis, and gymnastics this year, along with developing her skills in the arts and her academics. (Learning Latin is not for the faint of heart! She is taking 3^rd grade by storm!) My girl has more energy and more gumption for life than any child I’ve ever known. But the best news of all came in February when she openly prayed during our family devotion on the first day of Lent to receive Christ as her Savior. She chose to be baptized in my mom’s pool in July, surrounded by our GA family and friends, and I have watched Savannah persevere in her growth as a child of God ever since. She is nine years of joy!

I’ve watched Weston persevere in his walk with the Lord as well. He’s my cautious, intuitive thinker, and it’s been a joy to watch him grow in courage and determination this year, willing to commit and take more chances. Turning 7 in August, he was more than ready to begin first grade and has excelled. But watching him begin to fall in love with the game of soccer this fall was maybe my favorite thing. He works so hard! He doesn’t give up, and he takes correction, honestly always trying to improve. He scaled wall after wall of rock climbing courses at a gym at Thanksgiving, like a pro. We jokingly called him “Rock-boy,” to which he replied, “Call me Peter. His name means Rock.” We laughed, but my heart swelled because Weston’s name means Steadfast. He is more like Peter the apostle than he even knows. Watching my son persevere to overcome fears this year has been a gift.

Joey has persevered in his work and in his growth as a husband and father. I’ve watched him approach every change that came his way at work with grace, always acting with integrity in each situation, giving nothing but his best. I’ve watched him seek the Lord this year in a new way. I’ve seen him grow closer and stronger in his role as our family’s leader. After fifteen years of marriage, he is still persevering with me in marriage and seeking to pursue me, know me, see me. We began the year on the tails up side of the coin, but through the power and provision of our relationship with Jesus and our love and commitment to one another, we’ve been living the heads up side for most of the year. Joey’s perseverance in choosing Jesus, choosing us, every day, has been my greatest gift and highest high of this year.

The heads up moments have been simply amazing, dreams realized—God’s provision in completely taking care of buying back our not-well-made RV, traveling to San Francisco, driving the Pacific Coast Highway for Spring Break taking in the breathtaking majesty of mountains dropping into the vastness of the ocean, camping in Joshua Tree National Park in the middle of 20mph winds (so many stories!), visiting dear friends in Brazil over the summer, getting to see Iguaçu Falls while we were there (one of the New Seven Natural Wonders of the World!) which were simply mesmerizing, a last minute trip to Hawaii before school started back full of snorkeling with sea turtles and ogling over the uniqueness of our Creator’s design, co-leading a table of multi-generational women through the women’s ministry at our church, deepening my relationship with my now-sophomore girls in high school ministry, developing so many new friendships, lots of paddle surfing, and spending almost every weekend boogie boarding and watching sunsets by a fire on a beach with our dearest CA friends. These are some of my favorite memories ever, in my entire lifetime. So many amazing blessings. I have loved the heads up side of the coin this year.

The tails up moments have been learning to persevere in the mundane, the ordinary, and the seemingly insignificant routines of this stage of my life. The never-ending laundering, child-shuttling, grocery-shopping, meal-planning, homework completing, errand-running, need fulfilling stage of life where my identity seems to disappear into the titles of “mom” and “wife.” I love these titles. I’m blessed to have them. But they become only titles and not blessings when my life is not fully connected to my heavenly Father who breathes life and purpose into the mundane. Who has asked me this year to stay the course and live out everything I’ve ever proclaimed I believed in the ordinariness of my life, placing one foot in front of the other, one day at a time, being present, and daring me to find joy in it. He’s challenged me to be content being a nobody (in the eyes of the world) for Him. To live a faith filled, righteous life for the sole purpose of being noticed and praised and seen only by Him. This has been hard, but it has also produced an abiding joy I am still learning to define.

In the middle of these highs and lows, my dearest CA friends lost their eight-year-old son in a tragic accident. Savannah and Weston lost a playmate and friend, and the world lost a beautiful soul. Grief has colored the last six months of this year for me because I have come to love these friends and their family like my own. Choosing and desiring and loving being a part of their daily lives through the pain of this journey has taught me what perseverance means more than any other experience in my life.

Perseverance is not something you set out to accomplish or obtain. It is a natural byproduct of loving well. I love my friends deeply, so despite the pain from their lives that naturally ebbs into mine, I will persevere in that friendship. I love my children deeply, so despite the irritations and hurt we may cause each other, I will persevere in my role as their parent. I love my husband with all my heart, so despite the inevitable hardships our growing and changing lives will encounter, I will persevere in learning to be the helpmate God created me to be for him. I love my Jesus with all that I am, with my whole life, so despite the pain or discomfort that crashes into my life from tension with this world, I will persevere in my relationship with Him.

Perseverance is the natural byproduct of loving well. What a treasure!

So this Christmas season I challenge you also to persevere. Look around you and love well everyone and anyone the Lord has placed in your path. Follow Jesus’ example in Hebrews 12:1-3:

1Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us (you are NOT alone), let US also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us RUN with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2fixing our eyes ON JESUS, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the JOY set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

3For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (emphasis added mine)

Some of you need to believe you are not alone, some need to throw off weights and/or sin entangling your stride, some need to give yourself credit for loving well and fixing your eyes on Jesus, some need to despise shame and endure the cross God has given you to bear out of love for Jesus because Jesus doesn’t ask you to persevere through anything in life that He hasn’t already persevered and claimed victory over Himself! Learn to love well like Jesus. Recognize that somewhere in the middle of the process of enduring, there is JOY! The more years that pass, the more I believe that true joy cannot be experienced without deep struggle. So persevere because true joy is the reward, the prize, the gift.

May your love for Jesus produce perseverance in your life that brings glory to God and blessings uncountable to you and yours this coming year. Never give up on your pursuit of Christ because He will never give up His pursuit of you. He even came as far as heaven is to earth to humbly love us so unconditionally as to become One among us. Immanuel. God with us. Merry Christmas!

Grateful to be called His children,

Joey, Jennifer, Savannah, & Weston

My Little Man

Well, it's only fitting when big sister gets her accolades on her sixth birthday that little brother does too. =)

There is something about six years old though.  It marks the end of chubby cheeks, silly precious baby talk, and awkward movement, and ushers in a very distinct milestone into childhood. A new life all their own. Where my little boy will head off to school for seven hours every day instead of in my home, and his life outside of mine really begins to take shape.

Yes, there's something about six years old, and since he's not only my boy, he's my baby, my heart aches a little harder this time around.  But oh world!  Let me tell you what's heading your way!

Weston Loyd Durham is bright and charming and what he can't accomplish with a winning wit he will succeed with a devilish smile. He thinks likes his Mama, and wins people with his personality like his Daddy. He is smart, wickedly smart.  He's a thinker, a planner, a lover, a snuggler. He's my cautious adventurer.

He may be afraid to fail at times, but when push comes to shove, he sticks his tongue out and works hard to make things happen.  He's not afraid of a little pain. He loves to be praised, and encouragement is the fuel that can make him try something new, even when his perfectionist tendencies try to hold him back.

He makes us laugh hard and smile long. When he speaks, though not often, you had better listen because the wisdom that flows can be surprising. He hears, sees, knows, and understands more than we ever give him credit for. There are deep waters in those hazel eyes.

You still take my hand at times, little man. You're not embarrassed yet to hug your Mama, openly throw your arms around me, and shamelessly tell the world you love me, no matter who's listening. I hope you never stop.

But someday when you might, my prayer is that you never feel that way about Jesus. My prayer for you, my Steadfast child, is that you are never ashamed of your love for Jesus, and that you will speak about Him wherever you go no matter who's listening. May you grow to be a man of strength and unwavering integrity in a world that is desperately looking for real men to stand up and stand firm and stand tall.

I love you with all my heart! Happy Birthday Weston! Six years is something special to celebrate!

Be Missional

(So, my dear friends over at BeStillBeFree asked me to write for them this week, and I'm praying everyone will hop over to their website to check out the podcast and other resources that go along with this post. Here goes...my first assigned topic since college....)

I started writing this post a week ago. I wrote one long, deeply complex explanation of what I thought God had been teaching me about what it means to be missional, and somewhere in the middle of writing that long explanation I had a giant "Ah-ha" moment.

My entire life has been missional; it is missional. It's not something I do, it's who I am in Christ.

"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; 10 for you once were not a people, but now you are the people of God; you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

11 Beloved, I urge you as aliens and strangers to abstain from fleshly lusts which wage war against the soul. 12 Keep your behavior excellent among the Gentiles, so that in the thing in which they slander you as evildoers, they may because of your good deeds, as they observe them, glorify God in the day of visitation." 1 Peter 2:9-12

You see, according to Google, mission can be defined as "an organization or institution involved in a long-term assignment in a foreign country." Which means from the moment I accepted Christ into my heart at the age of four, I not only became a new member of the body of Christ--the institution of God's church--but I have been on a mission for Christ ever since and didn't even know it. (Hebrews 11:13-16, 13:14, Philippians 3:20). This world is not my true home. I have felt this in every part of my inner being since I was eleven and old enough to decide Christ is who I wanted to follow, He was what I wanted to pursue.

Every day after that for me has been one missional day lived after another. Because to be missional means to live for Christ. "Ok, ok," you're thinking, "I hear you. Being a Christian is a mission in itself, but aren't we called to more? What about our dreams, our passions, our gifts? Don't those play into our mission?" Yes! Absolutely! Take a big picture look at your life, then look closely at the details. What do you see?

Google also defines a mission as "a strongly felt aim, ambition, or calling." This is where it gets tricky because I think God sends us on many different missions within the big mission of simply being His child.

At the age of eleven, my mission was being an obedient child to my parents and a growing seeker of Christ. (Isaiah 30:21)

At fifteen, my mission was to discover the truth about who God says I am. How did He see me? (Psalm 139, Ephesians 1)

At eighteen, the mission became to discover who God says He is. Do I relate to God correctly? (Isaiah 55:8-9)

At twenty-one, my mission became to be a godly wife. Do I exemplify how the church should love Jesus Christ in my relationship with my husband? (Ephesians 5:22-24)

At twenty-seven, God added the mission of being a godly parent. He gave me the responsibility of shaping young hearts and minds that were created in His image. Do I represent God in a such a way that is honoring to Him and appealing to my children? (Deuteronomy 6)

At thirty-four, God sent our entire family on a mission to move across the United States from east coast to west coast in following of a call He had clearly laid on our hearts. (Exodus 14)

And now at thirty five, as if all those missions aren't large enough as it seems, I can feel Him stirring my heart for something more, something deeper. (Isaiah 43)

If people looking from the outside in, see my journey, my life, as being missional, then to God be the glory!!! I'm praising God in writing this blog because He's shown me my life HAS been missional; it IS missional. Living for my Jesus has required deep sacrifices in all areas of my life--physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It has required that I hold nothing back from Him. I have learned to bare my soul to Him and for Him. (Psalm 62:8) I have to practice living life with open hands, and it is not easy. Because open hands means my husband, my children, my dreams, my anything are in those open hands. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. (Job 1:21)

Will God still be enough? To be missional, the answer has to be yes. That is both a terrifying and freeing place to live depending on the day of the week and whether I'm experiencing a flesh-filled or Spirit-filled kind of day.

And friends, I am a nobody by the world's standards. I have no books, no speaking engagements, no cause to promote, no ministry calling (at present) except for being a child of God, a wife, and a mother. Don't you think that's a pretty BIG "except for"? I believe God is teaching me that if I live out the missions I already have, faithfully, He will continue to add to those missions in His time, in His way, slowly building me toward those hopes and dreams He's given.

I don't have a name for my next mission, but I can feel the Holy Spirit preparing me for it. I can see God's handwriting all over the pages of my life. He's uprooting old dreams, long dead and buried, and breathing new life into them. He shows me even in the stillness, the seeming nothingness of life, that He sees me right where He's placed me. He proves that He hears me because my prayers have never been more alive or answered.

Being missional means doing life with Jesus. Not like He's some distant religious god or statue or figurehead. No, being missional means Jesus Christ is as real of a relationship in my life as my husband lying breathing in bed next to me--warm, close, and intimate. Being missional means living like I value that relationship so much, I don't want to do anything intentional to screw it up.

It means I spend my life seeking after the heart of God. Whatever that looks like, whatever that takes, wherever the Spirit leads and God calls--that's where I am to be, and that is being missional.

Moses was missional.

When you read the life of Moses recorded in Exodus through Deuteronomy, you start to see the depth of how much Moses just wanted God.  God asked him to do hard things, and Moses had to answer some hard questions about himself. He screwed up and still kept plugging away at his relationship with God. In the end, it didn't matter that he would never get to experience the Promised Land for himself; it was enough that he was on a mission with God together, doing life God's way.

Do you really want to be missional, to live life mission-minded with great purpose? Because I have learned and experienced that God will ask you the hard questions and your answers will determine the direction of your mission, whether you head back to Egypt or toward the Promised Land.

Are you aware of all the areas in life you fall short? Can you identify them, admit them, own them? Can you lay them all out at God's feet and let Him equip you anyway? (Exodus 3-7)

Will you go where He's leading? Who or what is your Pharaoh? Will you face him? Who are the people God has called you to passionately intercede for? to lead? Who or what breaks your heart for God? (Exodus 8-14, Exodus 32, Numbers 14:13-16)

Are you willing to brave the wilderness with them whatever that may look like? Trusting God to be your Protector, Provider for every need, to be your ever-present Guide, and you only move when He moves? (Exodus 16, Numbers 9:15-23)

When the people around you that you serve and/or lead, when they inevitably complain, moan, groan, grumble, question your authority, your decisions, will you complain also? Will you take matters into your own hands? Or will you go directly to God with all your complaints, all your concerns, all your everything? Will you seek God's forgiveness and favor not just for yourself, but for those grumbling people as well? (Numbers 11-19)

And when you inevitably screw up, when you take matters into your own hands, when you forget that God deserves all the glory for anything and everything you are, and God seems to come down hard, will you accept His discipline? Will you accept that your sin has consequences just the same as the people you serve and lead? Will you continue on your mission anyway? Will you serve faithfully, following God despite the fact you may never set foot in the Promised Land this side of heaven? (Numbers 20-Deuteronomy)

Will God be enough?

God must be enough. He must be simply all you need. To be missional, you must consider these questions and be able to answer them honestly.  

The point being, we can be missional anywhere at any point in time as long as we accept and believe the grass is never greener anywhere else--we're not going to even look. Your satisfaction with where God places you in life, where He leads you, shows how much you truly desire God's will and plan for your life. Are you satisfied with the place, the time, the season, the circumstances in which God has you currently living life? To be missional, you must be able to answer that question with yes! 

He knows my dreams. He knows my heart. I trust His plan, so for now, one seemingly, insignificant day at a time, in this stillness--maybe for you it's a hardship--we just need to take the next step of obedience toward Christ, whatever that is. I have learned there is more forward progress in our lives toward the heart of God in the seeming nothingness of daily obedience out of love to our Lord than in a lifetime of mountain top, dream-fulfilling experiences. 

I want to live my life with steady forward progress toward my Jesus.

And while as the body of Christ, we have one mission in common--to be His ambassadors (2 Corinthians 5:20)--how He goes about accomplishing this mission looks very, very different in each one of us. We all have different dreams, passions, gifts, talents, hobbies, interests, personalities, backgrounds, cultures, families, environments, etc., etc., etc.  The differences among us are as vast as the heavens itself! How then can we expect to find a cookie-cutter, three-step answer on how to complete a mission no one else has ever embarked on because no one else has ever been you? 

The answer is actually surprisingly simple. You choose to live your life to glorify God in everything you say, do, and think, and then you tell God's story about your life when the opportunity comes or more often, you just live out God's story for others to see. (1 Peter 2:9-12)

You say. "Yes," to God. Every. Single. Time.

He says, "Pray without ceasing." You say, "Yes." And you practice saying prayers in the grocery aisle over which cereal is the best use of the money God has given you. You practice praying about everything and anything, no matter how small or ridiculous. You pray expecting answers. You're listening and looking for God to answer. And He does! You hear God's voice! (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18; John 10:27)

He says, "Take every thought captive." You say, "Yes." And you practice being aware of how your thoughts influence your attitudes, and you begin to separate the lies from the Truth. You choose to cut things out of your life that are feeding you lies. You experience freedom! (2 Corinthians 10:5)

He says, "Believe all of My words to be truth." You say, "Yes." And you practice seeking God's point of view first, on everything. Before your friends, before your mom, before you google or check Facebook, you begin checking Scripture first. And despite all the horrible, ugly things in the world, you fall in love with Jesus and realize you have the Pearl of Great Price, and you will sell everything you have to keep it! (2 Timothy 3:16, Matthew 13:45-46)

Being missional means you say yes to God in everything because He is enough.  And if you look carefully at those examples above, you will see that most of the doing is taking place inside your own mind and heart, it's not happening on the outside where people can see. You have to be missional on the inside first for people to experience Christ in who you are on the outside. If you try to forcefully reverse that process, people don't see Jesus; they see you striving to be something you are not.

Missional people don't complain, they don't manipulate, they don't negotiate. They don't have their own agenda. They are not fake, and they are not proud, and they have nothing to hide. As soon as I find myself living in one of these categories, I have a choice to make. Repent, making progress toward the Promised Land or live in sin and keep plodding back toward Egypt.  

God says to repent and missional people say yes to God.

Because the truth is if God isn't enough, then you must have some idea of what would be better, of what could be more fulfilling. For the first forty years of his life, Moses had all of that, and that era of his life ended in murder. No, I'd rather learn from Moses' mistakes instead of live them--at least the best I can--because in the end, Moses died in sight of the Promise Land, having seen the backside of God's glory, having spent countless hours in personal conversation with the God of creation, and God personally defended and honored His servant. (Exodus 33:22, Numbers 12:5-8)

I wonder if Moses looked back on His life in the end and saw the big picture of the mission he had accomplished through God's power or rather if he simply viewed his life as saying one yes after another to his Lord, no big deal, just a simple life of obedience. You get a sense of his heart in Psalm 90 that even at the end of his life, he still felt like it wasn't enough. Maybe that's the truth I need to embrace...my mission will never feel complete until I'm rested in glory with my Jesus, sitting at His feet.

What is God calling you to do? What is He asking of you, right now? It may seem very insignificant, small, pointless, or meaningless, but GOD is asking you to do it.  Will you say yes? Make that phone call, send that text, smile at that random person? Remember, this is the God of the Bible who breathes life and meaning and symbolism into the simplest of things like a lamp stand or salt. (Matthew 5:13-14)

Will you say yes to the big, scary, difficult thing God is asking of you?  Will you stop ignoring His voice, putting Him off, and telling Him to wait for you to be ready? Who do you think you are anyway?!? Will you be missional and say yes to God, no matter what?

You are always simply one yes away from living the missional life God has called you to live! Decide now! In what way can you say yes to God today, right now? Your missions in life are dependent upon your yes to the only Person in all of History you can fully trust. It is His story after all. We just have the opportunity to be the messengers to tell it. Will you say yes?

And for those of you that are saying yes to God in the daily little things that seem insignificant in a world that always wants to put people in a spotlight, be encouraged!!! You ARE living a missional life. You ARE making a difference. You may not be on a stage with a microphone in your hand, but is that really what matters?  God is enough for you. Claim that promise and truth for yourself. Put it on a t-shirt and wear it for the world to see. God is enough. 

And I am convinced that one day, all of us missional children of God will look back on our lives, just like Moses, and feel like we didn't do enough, but that--praise Jesus!--living life for Him and with Him was worth every moment.  And friend, you will have lived a life like Moses, accomplishing great things for God, and never even have known it.  But those watching will know it, and by your life of saying yes, they will learn to live a life of saying yes to God, and that is maybe the greatest legacy any of us can leave behind, that is mission accomplished.