Photo Courtsey of Angel_Ina on Flickr

The pressure to embrace being bold first arose within the context of my faith. It as though God continues to bring this to mind through conversations with friends, church services, small groups, and my personal Bible Study. It is the context in which “bold” first came to mind. All the verses I shared in the introduction post are based on the idea of the Christian faith being worthy of boldness, regardless of the cost.

While I don’t have to worry, most likely that is, about my faith costing me my life or putting me in prison, I do worry about the impact it will have on my career. I have never said that in public. It is true that Christians, right along with Republicans, get a really bad rap in my profession, and I am terrified that some of the aspirations I have professionally will be inhibited by the fact that I’m a Christian. A Christian who believes in the Bible nonetheless. The truth is, while more and more people groups are becoming off limits to jokes, Christians are still fair game. I know professionals in my field who have specifically chosen not to hire student employees because they are open about being Christian. Someone once said “they {referring in general to all Christian students, not a student this person actually knew} won’t be able to relate with students from other religious backgrounds”.

I have never really known how to respond in those situations, but that is just ridiculous. Not to mention untruthful and hurtful. Sometimes I’ve tried to respond well, usually the good points come to mind much later. I’ve just kept my mouth shut mostly.

But I feel like I am coming to a crossroads where I have to decide what’s most important- my faith, or my career. (Don’t read too much into that, I cannot imagine a time in life where I am not working in higher ed unless I’m 80…maybe 70). I know what the answer is. I know which is most important. This year, I’m stepping out declaring it. I love working at faith-based institutions, but I do wish to get deeply involved within the overall profession as I grow professionally. However, I want to be bold and confident in my faith in Christ, even if that means I do not have a seat at the broader association levels in higher education.

I know that I am a better professional because of my faith, not to mention the obviousness of being a better human being, friend, etc. It is my faith that gives me compassion, empathy, and a desire to help students in crisis. It is my faith that spurs me to push myself and those I work with towards continual improvement. It is my faith that causes me to deeply value what makes each individual incredibly unique. My work as a professional has a much deeper meaning than just the student experience, I believe it has eternal value. Faith and spirituality is central to who I am as a person and how I interact with others.

So this year, I will focus on being a better representative of the Christian faith to the world around me. I will continue to make my relationship with Christ a priority in my life. I will trust His word, and His plan for my life in all circumstances. No matter the cost.

And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. -Philippians 1:14

Tonight I rang in 2012 at the wedding of a student here in Anderson, South Carolina. Last year, I rang it in as the on-call residence hall director in Waco, Texas, meaning I was at home in my pjs. I don’t remember last new year, which probably means I was asleep before midnight.

As I think over the last year, I am still astonished at what 2011 held, and where I am now as I start 2012. I must admit, saying goodbye to 2011 has me rather nostalgic.

What a crazy and joyful year full of hope, hurt, heartache, and promise. It saw the breaking of trust and then friendships while deepening others. It also found new friendships all together- in some strange unexpected places. 2011 was a hard year, in fresh and new ways. Some things that were welcomed and I cautiously expected hoped prayed eagerly for before their arrival.

Last January I was “outed” in my search for a new job. This was something I prayed about a lot over the last half of 2010, and begged God to open the right doors at the right time. My job search really started much earlier than January (actually began in July, but that was known to only a very trusted few), however, January led to this adventure becoming public. As someone who is her own best critic, I have always felt the need to guard this process and my heart in it very carefully. I kept my mouth shut (no small feat, mind you), and told only a few trusted confidants. But, as with anything, at some point, the search becomes public.

January meant that for me. It held two seemingly open doors- both appealing in very different ways. Two processes that while separated by thousands of miles would become so connected and move in such harmony, that I could not doubt God’s hand was all over it. I was surprised by where God was leading. It was exciting, new, and unexpected. An accidental, seemingly random door to me, but not to God. One of my favorite scripture verses, and one that brings me great comfort was on the front of my mind:

and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him -Acts 17: 26-27

One door closed leaving me shocked, hurt, distrustful, and surprised at who my real cheerleaders were. More importantly- I learned a valuable lesson about community. Community means trust. When you are in community with people, whether neighbors, family, co-workers, or friends, you have to trust them. Sometimes, they screw it up and don’t care for you in the way you trusted them or asked them too. Sometimes they do the wrong thing. However, more often, they do the right thing, in the completely wrong way. Both things hurt.

I’ve been on both ends of that this year- both giving and receiving the hurt.

This journey meant that I learned to confront people better. I learned to be honest about expectations and hurt. I learned to offer forgiveness even if I never really understand. I learned that forgiveness begins healing, but that healing does not mean everything returns to how it was. Healing does not always end like chick fliks.

By mid-March I had a really good idea that I was going to be making a cross country move. By the end of March, that move and it’s details were mostly confirmed. I was moving to South Carolina. To a state that started with a letter other than “T” for the first time in nine years. Over the next two months I packed, planned, and said good bye. It was nothing short of bittersweet.

The summer meant driving across the country, starting a new job, finding a new church, and all sorts of new adventures. I saw dear friends get married, have long awaited babies. I saw friends and family deal with unexpected and unexplainable loss of life, which reminds me of how precious and fleeting every day truly is.

This is why, in the midst of what was confusing, hard and made me anxious, I always felt peace and can look back on it all with a truly thankful heart. Isaiah 26:3 says:

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

This verse, much like oft-quoted Jeremiah 29:11 are promises of God in the midst of terrible circumstances. Life when they were issued, and immediately following them could in no way be considered prosperous, or outwardly peaceful. But, this stands as a reminder that when we stay focused on where God leads, we can trust that His long-term vision is for our good (Romans 8:28).

It means no matter what hard things happen, the end is absolutely worth it. I may not understand it now, or at any point this side of heaven, but I have trust because of who my Savior is, that there is a picture bigger than me in play.

This was certainly true this year. The changes and surprises that came over the last 12 months have helped me to grow greatly. Because of this year I’m a better friend, daughter, and employee. I’m more focused on God. I have a clearer picture of who I am and what I care about most. God has placed me exactly where I am, because He can use me best here. He also placed me here because it is exactly what I needed. I am thankful to be encouraged, affirmed, challenged, and trusted.

God’s picture for my life was so much greater than my own. For that I am so thankful.

So while I close 2011 with a heart that misses the home I had, I start 2012 with a heart deeply excited about the great things in store. May 2012 be a year that is altogether different but fully grand.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. -Ephesians 3:20-21

Now is one of those times and bittersweet would be that word. This word means to be both happy and sad. Glad and mournful. The next few weeks for me can only be described as bittersweet.

Last week I gleefully accepted a new job- Director of Student Activities at Anderson University in South Carolina. I am glad and this is sweet. The reasons for this are numerous. Anderson is a smaller school with only 2200 students where they are serious about the relationship of faith and learning. Since I love small places and incorporating faith and learning, this is perfect. My new job works closely with student leaders, which is my favorite part of what I do. I’ll get to work with orientation and student activities. These are the two areas I believe my career will remain in, and where my gifts are best used. Anderson is much closer to my family and many of my friends- I have family as close at two hours away, and friends as close as one. South Carolina has hills, mountains, lakes, and the ocean. The Southeastern Conference has more TV airtime than the Big 12. The city of Anderson seems like a safe, great place to live with good community and a church I cannot wait to check out. Not to mention, I will be living off campus. Since I moved to college I have lived on campus and I really think it’s time for a grown up place that doesn’t have fire drills.

However, the reasons are also numerous that this is bitter and sad. My time at Baylor has been fantastic. I have learned a lot about myself as a person and professional. The sum of my experiences here have prepared me for my new position. I love my students at Baylor, and will miss them terribly. The students who where freshmen when I started will be seniors this coming year, and I am sad to not see them graduate. When I move, I will be losing my community here. I have some amazing friends in Waco, some who are old friends from my Belmont days, but many have become friends only in the last year. These folks have been my biggest cheerleaders and encouragers through the job search process not to mention the struggles of day-to-day life. Community means so much more to me now as a result of my life in Waco. The idea of leaving my church and my community makes my heart mournful.

God’s timing is perfect, and that was clear to me every step of my application at Anderson. I know that He will be faithful to provide for me in Anderson as He has provided in Waco. I know that He is for me.

My heart is heavy leaving this place.

My heart is joyful leaving this place.

You’ve all heard stories like this one. A single mom is struggling to pay rent, put food on her kids tables and get to work. For whatever reason, the father of her children isn’t in the picture: maybe he was abusive and she fled, or maybe he died during military service. Why he’s not there is not so much the issue as is his lack of presence. One day, this woman’s car dies, and she’s stuck. She has to get to work or she’ll lose her job. But she can’t afford to fix the beater car she drives. Out of seemingly no where someone hears about her plight and purchases a new car for her. She didn’t ask for this gift, but it meets her needs. It allows her to focus on other needs she and her family have. It changes her future.

You have heard stories, or know people who have been impacted by the generosity of those who are more fortunate. You’ve probably also heard about how their lives have been changed by that. I dream of being that person. I want to have the resources to go to a church and say “I heard about the needs of this person. Here’s $10000, can someone go with her to buy a reliable used car? If it costs less than this, the money is hers. My only requirement is that she not know where it came from.” Then sit back and watch how a  blessing I have changes someone else’s life.

I want to do bigger things. It has always seemed that those bigger things were just dreams. A dream that is laden with someday.

This weekend I read Crazy Love by Francis Chan. The chapter titled “Your Best Life… Later” got me thinking more about these dreams. Chan paraphrases the story of the loaves and fishes in the Gospels. Jesus gathers a meager meal from one boy in the group of thousands, blesses it, and then hands it to the disciples to pass around. I always imagined the bread and fish multiplied on the spot so the disciples knew there was enough. But, when you read the story closer (Matthew 15), you find that the disciples most likely had to trust that Jesus would provide. So did the other 4000. And He did provide. They all ate enough. Enough to meet their needs, not their excess. The same is true of the Israelites in the desert after leaving Egypt- they had manna, quail, water, and clothes that did not wear out. Chances are they probably got tired of those things, but every day they were reminded of how much God provided. If I am honest with myself, I know that God has provided for me. I have more than enough to meet my needs. I am too comfortable with my excess. Chan said later in the same chapter

The gap is so extreme in our world that we have to take lightly passages such as Luke 12:33: “Sell your possessions and give to the poor.” How else can I walk out of a mud shack and back into my two-thousand-square-foot house without doing anything? The concept of downsizing so that others might upgrade is biblical, beautiful . .. and nearly unheard of. We either close the gap or don’t take the words of the Bible literally.

That is powerful. I dream of doing something big and radically changing lives when I have more in the far off future. But the reality is that I have more right now than many in the world will ever have.

I believe that God is calling me to be faithful in the excess I have now so that in the future I can be faithful in the bigger things.

This call could mean a lot of things. I’m not really sure yet what it is practically. I just know that I cannot wait for God to give me even larger blessings in the future if I’m not using the smaller ones to impact the kingdom right now.

Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!

Matthew 25:21

In what ways is God calling you to be faithful in small ways now to your big future dreams?

Interested in reading Crazy Love? Buy it here.

It is hard to turn on the t.v. and not see evidence of of the depravity in our world. Max Lucado’s newest book Out Live Your Life encourages his reader, you and me, to move from the couch to an active participant meeting in the world’s needs.

Out Live Your Life is an inviting, gripping read that tells Biblical and modern day stories about how individuals reach out and make a difference in the world. One story talks about a taxi driver in London who read an article about microfinance which “provides small loans to poor people so they can increase their income and decrease their vulnerability to unforeseen circumstances” (p. 47-48). These loans are provided to individuals in third world countries to start or increase their businesses. This taxi driver provided a loan of fifty-five dollars through an organization to a Brazilian grocery owner. This small loan by our standards allowed this businessman to increase in business, pay back the loan and build a real home for his family. This small sacrifice re-wrote the story of this man and his family.

The book is full of stories like this and draws you in. I found myself not wanting to put the book down, and wondering what I can do to make a difference. Some books or articles like this can leave the reader guilty and unsure of where to move forward. Out Live Your Life is not such a book. Many of the examples that Lucado uses are simple ones that even you and I could do. Whether it’s working with an organization like Hope International to finance a new business, or even mowing our neighbors yard each of us are capable, even called, to make a difference in the world.

This book will encourage anyone to make a difference where they are. I also plan to use a couple chapters as supplemental reading in my Intro to Leadership course in the spring.

I would whole-heartedly recommend purchasing this book for your own reading and for sharing with others. 100% of the author’s royalties from Live Your Life go to World Vision. If you feel like you want to make a difference check out these organizations: Hope International, Compassion International, Mocha Club, World Vision, and the Mentoring Project.

I was given this book for free in return for writing a review. I’m not required to like it, just write about it!

It is from May 5th, 2010, the weekend of the Major Nashville Flood. You can read about it at any of these links (and see the amazing photos).

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I have been alive long enough to know that there are some things in life that permanently shift your perspective. I’ve also experienced a few of those things. I’ve lost some people who I love dearly, I watched the towers fall on 9/11/2001, I remember Katrina. However, aside from the death of my brother, I think that this past weekend produced in me a shift that has not been matched by other events in my life.

I spent four years in the city of Nashville. I went to college at Belmont University. I loved Nashville before I moved there, but my experience and my life there was so rich, deep, and meaningful that I am still moved to tears every time I drive into town and see the skyline. Nashville is truly the town that my heart calls home. When I am there, regardless of what is going on around me, everything seems right.

This past weekend I watched stalked Facebook and Twitter for every new update from my friends in Nashville as they were hammered by one of the worst rain storms to hit the city in recorded history. Three tornado warnings in 24 hours and 13+ inches of rain. All of these rain drops turned streams and creeks into rivers and the rivers into oceans. Soon I saw pictures of my beloved city underwater. With many pictures and memories of my life in Nashville. Watching as the river running through downtown flooded the streets my friends and I walked when we would go dancing on the weekends. Saw pictures of some of the city’s most notable landmarks like the Grand Ole Opry filled with swamp-like water. Not only were buildings and establishments harmed, but people lost their lives. People died stranded on the interstate when creeks turned them into raging rapids, and in their homes when they were trapped by rising water.

Sunday, while much of the worst flooding unfolded, I stood outside in my yard playing catch with my dog. It was sunny and 70-80 degrees here. Those around me had no clue what was going on in a city that is close enough to be in our same time zone. People went on about their business as if all was right in the world.

I was like them just days before, but now I couldn’t shake this feeling of imbalance and sadness. Didn’t they know that the place my heart called home was washing down river? Didn’t they know about the flood that has been described as the worst non-hurricane flood in the country? The flooding was barely mentioned on the news here or nationally.

I remember in 2005 falling asleep in my on campus apartment the night before the tropical storm Katrina hit TN. It already caused a lot of damage in New Orleans (the flood hadn’t happend quite yet), but was going to hit the Nashville area still at tropical storm strength. Lots of schools closed due to the anticipated rain fall. I prayed that night that God would let it rain enough for me to get out of class the next day. Instead, I woke up to a miserably wet day in Nashville (the kind where dry hair is the only evidence that you carried an umbrella) and horror unfolding in New Orleans.

I feel great remorse that I have failed to pay full attention catastrophes in the world. To not allowing the sadness and heart break of the world impact my life. I have heard people say that you can’t take it all in or you’ll break. But, what is wrong with breaking? Maybe if we allow God to break our hearts for the things that break His, this world would be a bit less broken on the whole.

Spring beckoned the seemingly dead things back to life. The sun tickled the leaves and flowers of out hiding. It has always been this season that set the following hymn chorus (based on Psalm 19) on repeat in my mind:

The heavens are telling the Glory of God.

And all Creation is showing for joy!

Come, dance in the forest,

Come, play in the field.

And sing, sing to the glory of the Lord!

In my mind and heart the parallel of spring and Easter made complete and utter sense. I remember always being moved by the knowledge that Easter was the celebration of spiritual seasons. Christ, My Savior, suffered and died. He experienced the ugliness of winter in the flesh and soul. He embodied and personified that season. He felt every small death of sin as much as the weight of every large one.

But three days later, My Savior, He Rose! He burst forth form the tomb, conquering death and sin once and for all.

On Good Friday we remember the death. I have always imagined His body like a discarded autumn leaf. Something that was once so marvelous- broken, discarded, trampled, and forgotten.

But then, on Easter morn, that leaf of a broken body returned. Bursting forth in the glory of new, restored life, and even greater glory.

While Easter has always been meaningful to me, this year, it means so much more.

Almost a year ago, my dear brother died. He died unexpectedly. He died alone. He died painfully. These things have haunted me since May. Especially the alone and painfully parts.

I have trusted God’s hand and leading throughout much of my life. While I am certainly not perfect in this or any area, I am thankful that He created me with the gifts of discernment and intuition. But, for once, I have felt truly lost. This was out of left field.

One of unbelievers’ greatest hang-ups with Christianity is the concept of suffering. Why would a good and loving God allow my brother, (who loved Him), to die alone and painfully? I can understand that argument a little more clearly after May. Through a book that we are reading in my connection group (The Reason for God by Tim Keller), God showed me that He understands it too.

You see on Good Friday God experienced first hand the pain of human death. No only did He die physically, but Keller points out:

The physical pain was nothing compared to the spiritual experience of cosmic abandonment… therefore {He} knows firsthand despair, rejection, loneliness, poverty, bereavement, torture, and imprisonment. On the cross he went beyond even the worst human suffering and experienced cosmic rejection and pain that exceeds ours as infinitely as his knowledge and power exceeds ours… So, if we embrace the Christian teaching that Jesus is God and that he went to the cross, then we have deep consolation and strength to face the brutal realties of life on earth. We can know that God is truly Immanuel– God with us– even in our worst sufferings.

God is truly Immanuel in every pain. He. Is. WITH. Us.

That Sunday at church this fresh approach to Immanuel (a word we often reserve for Christmas) was running through my mind. We were singing some unrelated song, when out of the blue I saw my brother having a seizure in his apartment. I could feel the terror his mind must have felt. But then, I saw that he was not alone. I saw my Savior, holding my withering brother. I saw Jesus holding his head, rubbing his hair, and crying over Richard’s pain. In that moment I realized that Jesus is not only Immanuel for me and my parents in our grief, but that He was Immanuel to Richard in his death. Richard was not alone; God felt that pain too. But God FELT that pain because of the death of Christ.

Because of Easter God is Immanuel in grief and in death.

Because of Easter I know that there is Joy.

Because of Easter (and Christmas, but that’s another blog post) Christ is Lord of Life- both physical and spiritual.

Because of Easter I know when I go to church tomorrow to corporately worship God’s Risen Son, I am joining my brother.

Because of Easter, Richard left his apartment WITH our Savior.

Because of Easter, Richard is rejoicing in Christ’s victory over death with an entire host of angels.

While I wish I could still have my brother with me, I know that Richard is experiencing Easter in the true fullness of new life. And I am experiencing Easter with a much deeper meaning and  a more thankful heart.

How do you respond to such arguments?

Welcoming a New Week

Swirling around me are sounds of a new week beginning. I hear the whoosh-whoosh of the dishwasher, the tumble-tumble of the dryer. Outside twilight descends and closes out the weekend like curtains on a stage.

Already I feel the rush, don’t you? My heart beats faster, my mind races, my hands move from one task to the next. This is to be a day of rest and yet by the end of it I’m usually pushing the pedal to the floor and zipping into another week.

I look out my window and see my trees are also getting ready. One has a calendar, another a Blackberry, a third is already checking e-mail.

“No, no,” you say, “such foolishness!” And of course it is, because trees don’t plan their days. They don’t stress out about meetings. They don’t worry over their limbs.

And, I’ll let you in on a secret, they grow anyway.

That is what I fear, I think–that if I stop all this madness, this rushing, that I will become small and stale. I will stay the same forever.

But this is not true, the trees know. For growth comes from roots and not leaves. It comes from being grounded firmly in the soil of God’s love and then clinging to Him, drawing from Him, dwelling in Him each day.

So I pause, whisper a prayer, and begin anew. Surprised, I find that when I empty my heart of all I carry I’m free to lift my arms toward heaven.

We stand there for a moment, the trees and I, hands raised in welcome and feeling as if this week we might just touch the sky.