Risky Business

risk /risk/

Noun: A situation involving exposure to danger
Verb: Expose (someone or something valued) to danger, harm, or loss

Words or phrases I think of when I hear "risk": action, adventure, scary, dangerous, against the norm, a lot on the line, scary, unknown outcome, scary...

I've always hated the fact that I'm not much of a risk taker. Risk takers are unique people. They believe in what they're risking for. They're willing to put it all on the line. They're actually doing. They're acting out of their beliefs, regardless of the outcome.

All the situations I can dream of people "risking" involve them doing something, taking some crazy action. Buying a company despite the opposition from others. Bungee jumping despite the minute chance of an accident. Taking a job despite having to relocate across the country. ...Those are what I think are risks.

But here's what hit me this morning: If risk, by definition, is "a situation involving exposure to danger" then perhaps is NOT acting sometimes a risk? Isn't it a risk to be offered a job then NOT take it? Isn't it a risk to see an opportunity and NOT pursue it?

Couldn't it be a risk to, dare I say, wait?

I'm in a waiting time of life. And while I don't usually want to do anything too risky, I do usually want to DO something. I want to make some kind of action. I hate sitting still. But I think right now, I need to take a risk and wait. Believe me, that's terrifying.

Waiting on the Mosaic

I wonder if the tile creators ever imagined this when they dreamed up the tile designs.

I bet they saw their tiles nicely and neatly laid in lobbies, bathrooms or patios.

Maybe they did dream they'd be displayed in public areas, like around a park fountain. But I doubt they pictured their creations broken into pieces and placed with other mismatched and broken tiles.

But just look at this incredible wall at Park Guell in Barcelona, Spain. It looks so perfect. (Admittedly, I love abstract art. I love that it can be whatever you want it to be. I love thinking about what the artist wanted viewers to see and feel.)

In early January, my typical restlessness was about to overtake me. The many, many dreams I'd horded were about to cause my heart to bust. Among several other crazy things, I'd wanted to live in about 5 major US cities and overseas somewhere all before age 30, so then at 30, I could marry and start a family. Feeling the pressure of time, I began to doubt my decision to join Confluence Church and my 2-year (minimum) commitment to the Champaign area.

I felt like God was asking me to name all of the desires and dreams I'd kept locked in my heart. It was as if my dreams were colorful, unique jars I'd been collecting, each so special to me, so important. As I named them, I lined them up on a counter, being so careful and intentional in their placement as I explained each dream's importance.

Right after they were all lined up and beautifully displayed, they went crashing to the floor, the concrete floor. My entire insides tightened. I looked over the edge of the counter and what I saw was astounding. This is all I could say:

My dreams are being dashed so beautifully that each and every sharp-edged, disproportioned, shattered piece is forming a breathtaking, mosaic work of art.

So that is where I am. My original plans were not bad, just as the tile creators tile dreams weren't bad. But I believe there is an Artist who wants to take my plans and make them into something far more beautiful that I can imagine. I will control my restless heart and wait to see how exactly these pieces flow together.

In the fog

I've learned many things this past month. It's been steep walk on my faith journey. While the rocks seem to be moss-covered and slippery and the fog has nearly blocked all my vision, my ears have become more acute to the voice of my Leader. I hear Him more clearly and more often, and when I don't hear His words or see His pictures/images, I hear His breath and know I'm close. So peacefully and confidently I take my next step. One step at a time. One day at a time. I keep going.

There is one specific word that has resonated with my heart most and that I remind myself of every day. And I believe, friends, that this word is for you too. It's this:

God knows where you are. He sees where you are. He hears your prayers/cries/begs/shouts/yells. He knows your situation. And He cares. He loves you while you cry, while you shout, while you plead. He loves you right there.

He sees where you are. He sees where you started. And He sees where you're going. He sees the entire journey. And He's with you on the whole journey.

Take heart, friends. If you are following Jesus and are in a position where you feel purposeless and lost, where you feel overwhelmed and inadequate, where you feel the whiplash of the world's brokenness...if that's where you are, He is there. He sees you. He loves you. And He will see you through. His love prevails over life's circumstances.

If you stumbled onto this blog and are curious about the assurance this "God" offers, or maybe you have questions you don't think He could answer, or maybe you think I'm insane...regardless, if you feel like contacting me to talk about the questions you and I have regarding faith, email me. (You can find my email address on my profile page.) I love hard questions and have many of my own. I'd be honored to talk to you.

Some things are timeless.

I recently ran across a once very familiar notebook. I carried it with me everywhere my junior year of high school. It was what I’d now call my creative outlet, but that was before I embraced any sort of creativity; I was slightly embarrassed by my writing tendencies.

The notebook housed my poetry. The words that overflowed from my heart. Prayers to God.

So the other day when I found this notebook, I read through each piece of writing, letting my heart remember the words. It was like reconnecting with an old friend. The words I remembered; the climate of life when they were written, I’d forgotten.

I was inspired by my 17-year-old self. As I read through the prayers, I thought of how my life was then, the young woman was becoming. Then I thought of how my life is now, remembering various experiences I’ve had, people I’ve met, places I’ve been, the woman I’m still becoming.

So much in my life has changed, yet my prayers are still the same. Here is one of my poems:

Direct Me, God

1-03-04

Direct me, God

This is new ground

But You’ve been here, Jesus

It’s to You I’m bound

This is what I’m asking

This is what I pray

Show me, Lord

Where to go today

What to say

Who to meet

In a store

Or on the street

Direct me, God

This is new ground

But You’ve been here, Jesus

It’s to You I’m bound

Every breath goes to You

Every step to You

Wherever you choose

Win or lose

We’re in this together

Through all kinds of weather

Lead me wherever

Guide me forever

Direct me, God

This is new ground

But You’ve been here, Jesus

It’s to You I’m bound

You know what I can take

You know when I break

You won’t leave me stranded

I’m Yours, branded

Yours forever

Take me wherever

Show me Your way

For me today

Direct me, God

This is new ground

But You’ve been here, Jesus

It’s to You I’m bound

Cautiously or Radically?

I believe I was a sophomore in high school when I made this life-changing decision. A decision that has, in fact, affected every major decision I've made thereafter.

No, it wasn't the decision to follow Jesus, exactly.

It was the decision to not just live for the Lord, but to live radically for the Lord. During musical worship at a conference, as I was praying, two pictures came into my mind. One picture was of a house on a hill with a fence and a dog in the front yard. The other was a straw hut on a mud road. In my heart I felt that the pictures represent two ways of life. (Note: Don't hear me saying I think having a house on a hill with a fence and a dog is bad or wrong or unspiritual. I don't. At all. And I may very well have one myself someday! If that's all you hear, you'll miss the point.)

To me, the first picture represented living cautiously, while the second represented living radically. Because God knows my heart's language, He used those pictures lead me to a Y in the road on my journey with Him. I decided that night to live each day radically, wanting to live life on the edge.

Right now, I'm trying to figure out what the "each day" part looks like. Moving to Champaign, Ill., to join a church plant team may sound radical, but not to me. It's getting down to the day-by-day details of living radically that has stumped me. My challenge has been to make sure each day is aligning with the larger purpose of living radically, loving radically, and risking radically. And I'm not sure I've been doing that well.

I have a feeling this isn't something I'm going to master anytime soon. It just might take a lifetime.

That I'm not alone

I found tears running down my cheeks this morning.

I'm not one to cry, really. There are typically two things that bring my internal emotions to my exterior: movies and music. Stop, play and pause buttons can be pushed during movies or songs. There's a clear end, either an hour and 58 minutes or 3 minutes and 28 seconds. I get to decide if I want whatever happens during the movie or song to affect me thereafter.

In real life, not so much (which is why I struggle with emotional connectivity).

But this morning, I had no control. It was as if my heart bypassed my brain.

We had communion at Confluence Church for the first time today. Confluence, a church plant in Champaign, Ill., started meeting in July. Church is held at the pastor's home, and we've been catching the vision, learning about the city, discussing practical ways engage the community, building relationships, listening to the Spirit, and worshiping God since then.

Before church, the kids of the pastor went over to the neighbors' houses to invite them. Two kids came, Niko and Tanea.

For communion, someone read 1 Corinthians 11: 23-34 from The Message version. A plate of bread was passed around to everyone one, and Kevin (the pastor) served everyone the juice saying some variation of "This is the blood of Jesus; He died for you." Even the kids were served.

After that, Kevin asked if anyone felt God tell them anything or if they had any images they wanted to share with the group. (This is very common at Confluence. Sometimes no one has anything; sometimes someone does.) A couple of people said very serious, genuine things that were on their hearts. And then there was some silence.

And now, here comes the reason for this post. This the reason there were tears streaming down my cheeks. After a few moments of silence, Niko, the 10-year-old 5th grader who doesn't really go to church, said with more sincerity than I can write

"I felt God say that I'm not alone."

Wow.

I am certain, so certain, something is going on in his heart. The Lord is moving and drawing him near. In a room of strangers, primarily adults, this little boy had the courage to share God told him he's not alone.

Oh, and Niko, who decided to not go to children's church but to stay with the adults, also volunteered to help in a service project next weekend.

All my heart could do was smile through tears.

10 Reasons I’m Not Selling Everything I Own and Traveling the World

My love for traveling has taken me many places in my short 24 years of life. I have amazing friends in Mexico I visit at least yearly. I’ve almost been arrested in Athens, Greece, for not validating my metro ticket (three words: bribe the cop). I’ve met Great Britain’s former Prime Minister Gordon Brown outside a hotel on the northern coast of Wales.

The city of Paris still inspires me when I close my eyes and remember walking out of Sacre Coeur and having my senses overcome with awe at the sight, sounds and smells as the chilled night wind blew my scarf into the empty sky behind me and the entire city sparkled just like in the movies. Flipping through a book I bought at the Vatican and remembering Michelangelo’s incredible art encourages me to persevere when a task seems daunting and the end isn’t in sight.

I spent four months living in a real castle nestled in England’s green countryside. Nearly ten years ago in Haiti I met a little boy, T-Jim, whose picture still sits on my desk in a frame that says, “Memories such as these are treasures of the heart.”

I can’t watch the travel channel because it makes me restless. I can’t flip through vacationing magazines because I want to visit everywhere. I can’t save any money because I spend it all on airfare or gasoline.

So you can imagine how hard it was for me to read Elizabeth Gilbert’s New York Times Bestseller “Eat Pray Love.” In fact, I haven’t read it completely. I had to stop after reading of her experiences in Italy. By that point, I’d created an eBay account, Kelly Blue Booked my vehicle’s worth, and searched one-way flights to various cities across Europe. I was ready to sell everything I owned and move to anywhere. It was then I knew I had to put the book down. My heart just couldn’t take it.

Side note for those of you who are out of touch with pop culture: Gilbert’s book is about her experiences spending a year traveling in search of herself and, some would say, spirituality. She spends time in Italy, where she focuses on food, India, where she visits an Ashram and focuses on prayer, and Indonesia, where she focuses on love. Last weekend a movie based on her book was released starring Julia Roberts. (End side note.)

When my best friend, who loves the book, asked me to see the movie with her, I could hardly say no, especially because it stars my favorite actress of all time. (“Pretty Woman” was my favorite movie as a child.) Going into the theater, I gave myself a pep talk, something not uncommon for me.

“Just enjoy it. You know you’re supposed to be in Champaign now. You just signed a 12-month lease. This is where the Lord wants you. Just enjoy the movie,” I told myself convincingly.

I did enjoy the movie. But, I’ll admit, there were times, while sitting in that surprisingly comfortable movie theater seat, I would have given all but my last breath to be sitting on the Spanish steps in Rome (something I’ve done before) or walking the beaches of Bali (something I long terribly to do).

That brings me to my main point, the title of this post: 10 Reasons I’m Not Selling Everything I Own and Traveling the World. Truly, I believe these reasons are from my heart. However, I must be more truthful in saying perhaps my heart is trying to convince my head these reasons are valid. Regardless, here are the 10 reasons I’m staying in good, ol’ Midwest and not becoming a globetrotter….right now anyway.

1. I’m not in a financial position to spend a year unemployed.
2. My family would hate me.
3. I just signed a 12-month lease that can’t be broken.
4. Honestly, I believe God has led me to Champaign, Ill.
5. Student loans, need I say more?
6. I plan on going back to school next year (for dental hygiene this time).
7. My camera isn’t good enough to take on that kind of trip.
8. I need to shed some pounds before I can fit in with the rest of the world.
9. I would need to take another self-defense course to brush up my moves, and I don’t have time for that now.
10. The final reason, and probably the one I cling to most, is that book has already been written. I won’t write it again; I’ll write my own.