Joyful Freedom

I talked to my sister on the phone the other day. I am constantly floored by her bravery. She recently moved to Pennsylvania; we now sandwich our family in Iowa. She has over come and accomplished incredible things. She completed high school, excelled through college, flourished in social settings, and walked across the stage this past May receiving a diploma declaring her hard work. She did not settle for anything less than greatness. Just when I thought she was this great woman of ambition, she moved half way across the country to a town she was completely unfamiliar with. In this town she did not have a single friend, did not have a church body, did not know where the grocery store, she didn't even a have an apartment to unpack her belongings in, only a job. She moved with bravery and courage. She is a woman setting the bar high for the rest of us.

I think of my other sister who just received her second college degree. My brother in his senior year of college and his girl friend pursuing a nursing degree who spent her summer working in a nursing home, something she did not want to do and was not excited for. They are pursuing incredible things. I am so proud of them. They will soon all receive a title boxing them into a profession, but what is under their skin is so much more than a title could ever tell.

I am in a strange town. Life is mundane here; normal, average, consistent. I am currently sitting in the public library. Moms are shushing their children talking with voices echoing against the tall ceilings. Typical fashion: jeans tucked into X-tra Tuf boots, long sleeves (most likely flannel buttoned all the way), with a vest on top, or overalls (jean or Carhart) covering flannels and old sweatshirts; none of which is done to foster the hipster community, it is simply life. The fishermen stand out, their eyes seem to be glassy with colors reflecting the ocean, slightly bleached by the sun. Our sea side location welcomes the overcast clouds, the sun shines for about 14 hours a day still, but only when the clouds permit, maybe two or three times a week.

Last week we split base duties among our small staff of nine. My new job: kitchen coordinator, community outreach director, assisting in other administrative duties as needed and occasionally child care. All fancy terms for: grocery shopping, cooking, sweeping, and playing with children. 

I have often sat in silence before my three apartment mates have awoken thinking, "What am I doing with my life?" 

"Yes, God wants you to do signs and wonders. But the love of God manifested through you is what people really need. So you first must see His face. You must become so close to His very heartbeat that you can feel what others feel." 

-Heidi Baker

I sat in silence this past week with eyes looking at my empty hands, seeing nothing. My eyes were turned down ward. Love was standing in front of me, confused as to why I would not look at Him. Mercy wanted me to see Him, Salvation wanted me to see what He gave to me. 

It is the woeful Juliet, dramatically calling to her beloved Romeo, "Tis' but thy name that is my enemy..." 

I have began to read the book Culture of Honor by Danny Silk. In the introduction he speaks on showing honor by calling others by the name of who they are: apostle, prophet, teacher, pastor, evangelist. Names defining how we relate to each other: free sons and daughters, children of light. And names truly describing us: royalty, wealthy, benefactor. 

A couple doing their DTS here have two small girls. In reading Silk's book, these girls are not children of DTS students or my neighbors or cute little Swiss girls. They are life givers, shapers of nations, lovers of curiosity, devourers of eggs and rice, women of standards. They encapsulate vision, passion, dreams, and gifts, uniquely picked for them by the Wild One, not able to be fully expressed through their words yet. These young freedom chasers are missionaries.

"Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion." 

-Brennan Manning

I suggest you all watch this video. Be inspired. Listen to Holy Spirit. Wait in expectancy of Papa Faithful as you cry out, begging for revival, signs, and wonders, not sitting around, but in turn faithfully stepping into the plans before us, loving the one as he has been loved and named by our Daddy.

(And yes, I have repent of calling life mundane. I have actually made many friends at the grocery store, become a regular at a coffee shop, and made new mom friends as I tote around two blond girls. He gives us a funny life if we allow ourselves to walk in joyful freedom!)