Ten Hearts: A Flashback to Two Years Ago

Keeping people at arm’s distance means I can strong-arm them away from any kind of internal heart damage. No one wants to end up broken hearted…and the closer you get, the harder it can be to push away.

As you inch closer and closer to others, your strings start to intertwine…and you idiot, it becomes as messy as the time you foolishly put all your headphone cords into the same drawer and you soon have to spend a frustrated hour using alternative expletives as you struggle to unravel the mess.

 You know like “Shoots and Ladders” and “Cripes Magoo” and “What the chocolate Monkeys?” as your face turns red and your fingers work to find where the knot formed. That specific point in time where the mess happened in the first place…once you find that you’re golden, but it’s tough, there are multiple chords, and multiple points of entanglement you have to detangle before getting to the source.

…if I took a little bit of time I could successfully compartmentalize the chords, and that entanglement wouldn’t happen.

It’s an easy lesson to be learned with inanimate objects, but with people? That becomes a bit trickier. People come into our lives, makes messes, bring expectations, baggage and personalities that, in no way, perfectly match our own….and yet….there they are…and there I am with a choice, either push back and stay untangled or lean in and intertwine…

I was speeding…It was a fifty minute drive from Green Bay to outer Neenah, my Nissan chugged forward on the highway. Road rage would set in from time to time…and I will NEVER understand the penchant for drivers to sit in the passing lane, parallel to other cars in the right lane. Do they not notice the fact that there is clearly a line of us just waiting to pass?! I think it is their sick way of making others’ lives wholly miserable.

(This road rage God continues to work out of my heart…)

I was, ironically, speeding to a Bible Study, a new Bible Study, in Neenah, WI. I didn’t know what to expect, I had rather invited myself by way of a friend who attended the study. She shared how amazing it was, how connected she felt, how enriched she was by the truths shared in the Study. And so of course, wanting that same thing, I asked to just “check it out”. How can you refuse such a request? I was the kid inviting themselves over for dinner simply by weaseling my way in through the doorway.

So I went to find a piece of the connection my friend had… and arrived, entering into the soft lighting, the laughter, the smiles…and there I was, a stranger among friends, friends who seemed to have known each other for years, not just months.

They were eating dinner…all crowded around a little table, chattering like well-worn cousins at Thanksgiving, excited to share that bit of space together. As I inched my way up the staircase, throngs of shouts came my way. Another chair was squeezed into place, insisting I join them, grab some food, and be part of that family.

But how could I? They all had their jokes, their stories, their pranks and their hearts that were already so full… I was but an additional chair…

But hearts, especially the ones that overflow, seem to find space for one more. And instead of safely strong-arming these hearts surrounding me…in that moment I saw something special, something unique and I chose to lean in that very night.

That night was the first night of many. I was introduced to Bible Study traditions, procedures and each member. There were ten…ten hearts that sat around the living room, beaming as they shared. Those ten hearts had impact on my own in so many ways.

I learned each heart had it’s own unique strengths, personality and addition to our Study.

First heart- Inviting and Wise

Second heart- Loyal and Affirming

Third heart-Joyful and Easy-going

Fourth heart- Truthful and Challenging

Fifth heart- Inviting and Able

Sixth heart-Energetic and Engaging

Seventh Heart-Spontaneous and Enterprising

Eighth Heart-Bold and Loving

Ninth Heart-Steadfast and Attentive

Tenth Heart- Encouraging and Genuine

Really, there’s so much more to each heart … God fashions us fearfully and wonderfully…we are intricate beings and it would be folly to simplify who we are with a couple of descriptive words, yet I wanted to share a snapshot of those people who slowly intertwined into my life.

And so, I began a journey with this new family of mine. I decided to let my heart open, to let both joy and pain inside.

 We shared meals, laughs, outings, adventures together. We prayed for each other. We challenged each other, spiritually and in some cases physically (some members were particularly competitive). In some cases I fought with some and grew closer for it. I chose not to give up when things got hard, but press further into these brothers and sisters God chose to put in my path that night.

I took time, energy, and a lot of gas money in order to let my string get inexorably wrapped tightly to those friends who would allow it.

And I realize in looking back, as I move…life continues forward. I watched a movie recently where the main character quoted “In order to say yes to the future, it meant saying goodbye to my father.”

It hits hard…in order for me to say yes to what God had next for me it meant saying goodbye to these hearts I came to view as family.

But here was God’s truth in it all, we weren’t meant to be alone. And I will carry the lessons learned from these hearts along with me into my new journey, where I will meet new people, get to know new sisters and brothers in Christ. I will be newly challenged and newly encouraged.

One of my last days in Wisconsin…I was given a precious gift. Together these friends and their spouses contributed to a build-a-bear (well bunny). Fashioned in the love that comes from adults willing to go into an overbearing children’s store; they made me my own bunny to take with me on my journey.

But this bunny was quite special…This bunny was stuffed with ten hearts.

 And so those ten precious hearts were packed into my new bunny. Each one scripted with the names of those bible study members who so graciously allowed me to be a part of their lives. I carry them with me to Phoenix, and this bunny represents the both the best and the mess of my friends back in Wisconsin…

And so, I named this blog sight after those hearts that have touched mine, that have spoken God’s truth into my life. Those truths have given me confidence to see who I am in Christ. That I am a messy, messed-up person…but aren’t we all? And when we choose to let people into that mess, we are able to see more and more of God’s heart, His character, the parts of Himself that He instills into each one of His children.

We, each of us, carry God’s spirit inside of us, and we must work together as He individually gifts us and meant us to be one body in Him. And I absolutely love the idea of being united in Christ. We are His family, His sons and daughters

So it isn’t my own heart anymore….

  

And so, by leaning into people, we are trusting that God is intricately placing each knot in position so that, in the end, we become a brilliant tapestry of His glory.

The Seed that Sprouts

There is safety in numbers, when you are walking at night, when you are feeling sleepy driving, when you are trying to avoid creepers at the mall, and especially when you are entering into a church. Because, unless it is a fairly large facility, you will be noticed…and greeted…and approached. Because, if the church is doing it right, they will do everything in their power to make you feel loved, appreciated and noticed.

But for a girl starting over in a new city, new state…there are conflicting emotions that rush at you as you slowly pull your car into the nearest parking spot…the yearning to be known, to be accepted…and the very, very strong feeling of wanting to slip into a corner spot in the back of a big church, go through the motions and slip away without anyone ever knowing your existence. Then, in the safety of your own home, you can feel out if the church is the right fit for you…and need never make awkward small talk. 

I set my gear to park, checked and double checked I had my keys, and locked my doors…(These are the necessary steps you take in a new state to make sure you aren’t locked out of your vehicle.)

Church on Mill

Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the main entrance of the church called The Church on Mill…why you ask? My best guess…it is located on a street called Mill. And by goodness, for some reason I could still never remember what street it was on. Thank you, thank you, my dear gps.

And so it began…Church…not the service…but the people…the church…It began the moment I walked in…there I was warmly greeted by a man by the door, handing out bulletins. He made sure to address me directly, took notice of the girl entering in…and I took that bulletin he handed me and made my way into the sanctuary where I was warmly greeted by smiles and nods.

A rush of elation hit as I felt I timed it out perfectly, the music began to play, and I needn’t have to try to make small talk but simply find a seat and sing.

I looked around for an unobtrusive spot and found one near the middle of the aisle, a few rows from the front. And the music rang out…people’s voices flowed together, deep tones, high-pitched sopranos, illustrious old men who bellowed out, and the off-key melody of those who just don’t care what they sound like, because they know who they are singing to. As we all didn’t care. Because, in worship, it is never about the voice…and here it was so evident…Church was happening.  The body was coming together, to praise and glorify God. These people, imperfect perhaps in voice understood what their purpose in worship was…the simple yet profound mystery of music as a way to express to God who He is and why He is so worthy of praise. And in this church on Mill…those voices, great and mellow, flowed together in unison, and the passion for God filled my spirit.

It didn’t matter now where I was, or who I wasn’t with…all that mattered was that here; I could unabashedly worship the God who created me. My voice joined in the throng and my anxiety melted away in the presence of people who were all hurting, lost sinners and yet exactly there in those broken hearts, God entered in, and connected his children together in joyful, poignant worship.

As we sang, a girl came in, and decided to sit next to me. And within that decision, her seemingly small choice to sit next to and acknowledge the new girl, allowed me to see God’s great provision…to see His minute detailing of a grand master weaver!

You see before leaving Wisconsin, my friends had been assuring me that God was providing for me even before I left. "Sondra!" they would say, "Even now, God is preparing for you so many things in Arizona!" They would be excited for me, and tell me He was doing work already, even before I stepped foot into my new state…and yet…and yet...

 I would love to say my faith is big…but the more I face even small adversities, the more I see that my faith is not so big at all…

It’s a tiny faith. It's a mustard seed faith.

Before moving, all I could see were blank spaces in this new life needing to be filled…"Where would I live?" "What would I do?" "Who could accept me into their community?" 

And in all these unanswered questions, these blank spaces, I couldn't how they could possibly be filled. How could all these questions be answered…and lovingly answered?

 No, my faith was a tiny, tiny seed, nothing to brag about. 

But herein was this truth, this lesson to be grasped…as God tells me: If you have faith as small as a mustard seed you can say to this mountain “Move from here to there,” and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

And so my little mustard seed faith met what seemed like a mountain that Sunday, and God moved the mountain…and my little seed started to sprout into the ground and took root and I could look at it and stare into the blank space and see a bright piercing light…and say “My faith may be small…but my God is BIG.”

….What was the mountain that was moved? …you’ll just have to wait and see what God provided…but for me, I’m smiling as my seed’s shell continues to break ground and spread its roots in the deepest parts of my soul…and I sit here and smile in joy at the infestation of this growing faith…roots reaching, stretching, diving deep into the fertile soil of God's future plans.

The Journey Forward

The Journey Forward  

It’s strange being able to pack your whole life up in one afternoon. It makes it easy when you don’t own much. It also makes it easy when you have no particular order to your packing. The time-efficiency of throwing things higgedly -piggedly into suitcases is great until mid-travel you come to the wonderful revelation that you packed up necessary medications deep into the heart of an unknown piece of luggage.

Yet for better or worse, packed and ready, my father and I were about to embark on a week-long venture to my new home state, Phoenix. First stop, Omaha, Nebraska where Dad would lead a leadership conference with the staff of an organization called Christ for the City International…and then off to Denver, Colorado to visit with my Aunt Lois…and finally the long haul from Denver to Phoenix via New Mexico. Vive Las Vegas! (We didn’t stop to do the slots…in case you were wondering…)

It would be a daunting amount of time spent for a girl who hadn’t traveled more than six hours in a car in over ten years. It was supposed to be an adventure, a time to enjoy the brilliance of the open road.

Yet, once again, agitation over-ruled anticipation in the idea of leaving all I knew behind. It was becoming all too familiar a trope and I wasn’t happy to experience any of these agitated emotions.

My dad and I got a “late” start, depending on whose perspective you choose. My day tends to start AFTER the sun comes up, whereas my father’s tends to well before the rooster crows…so you can imagine the compromise a father-daughter makes when it comes to sleep and driving.

But I’ll spare you the riveting details of our driving and start our adventure in our arrival in Omaha. We arrived that evening, hitting up a hotel where their advice for dining was paramount to asking a teenage girl for directions. (This is a stereotype, and thus please disregard it if you are a teenage girl with a fabulous sense of direction)

So with that, my father and I found ourselves eating at a local diner, and the main thing I was thankful for was the wait-staff’s obliviousness to my sobbing over the meal I had ordered. The food wasn’t great, but no reason to cry right…

Girls crying in public happens. But it’s never pretty, and always something to avoid if possible.

But there I was, in public crying as I attempted to still eat like a normal human, while my father did all he could to be comfortable in quite an uncomfortable situation.  And though my father found slight relief in arriving back at the hotel and my crying could be done in the peace of our hotel room…my mother’s concern was plainly heard over the phone, “I’m concerned about you.” I couldn’t blame her. But I couldn’t really comfort her either…so we both realized, I would just have to go to bed and try again the next day.

Yes, my first day of travel was not the quite the adventure imagined months prior. You picture yourself experiencing new things, trying new food-joints, enjoying the beautiful scenery, infused with the entreprenual spirit of conquering the unknown in the grandeur of travel.

Hotel of Tears ;)

Instead, I once again resumed the form of something shakeably cowardice.

Yet, with sleep I was granted some semblance of peace.

That morning, my dad and I woke up and prepared to meet some of the staff members of the organization Christ for the City International (or CFCI).

As our little Yaris took off down the Omaha city roads,  there came another small whisper in the depths of my mind…a whisper that God was going to meet me somewhere that day.

I almost wanted to squash that whisper because I was afraid of getting my hopes up…because I didn’t know exactly how, when or for what…but I could feel that God had something in store, and it’s a hard thing to trust in...with it comes the fear of being let-down.  The whisper continued inside me, “keep going…I have some family I would like you to meet.”

CFCI Map

We made our way into a building shared by some other organizations. CFCI’s location was the second floor down at the end of a little hallway. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry that day. And God’s whisper continued…keep going…keep going…

There we were greeted by a handful of individuals who worked on staff at the CFCI base…and it was a little pinprick of light in an ocean of darkness…as each face I met held something deep beneath the surface of each smile. Each person I shook hands with, and talked to gave off endearing warmth…filling up my heavy soul like a little helium balloon…each pump of the hand, inflating my spirit higher and higher.

These people, in this different state…they had it…they were men and women of God and their passion for ministry was evident. The staff at CFCI knew what they were created for: to Love God and Love people and serve where God calls them even if the calling was a tough one.

I learned a small amount about some of the staff, but within those meetings, I understood the joy that could be found in following God’s call into the unknown.

CFCI Conference Room

These people had traveled and lived outside of the U.S. They had experience of the loneliness of leaving all they had to do something new. They had experience in going where God calls, only to realize he was calling you back, because…you learned all He wanted you to learn…and you were now equipped to return…

Their stories flowed over lunch after our meeting, and I found kindred spirits among these staff workers in Omaha. They spoke into my life, excepting my father and I into their staff family, as we ate, laughed and shared.

Their mission is the transformation of communities and the development of leaders in the name of Christ, by reaching into those communities and giving hope to individuals through the transforming power of Christ.

Warm connections with staff!

And oh! how much light they shared together working as a united body! This small window into their world granted me some strength for the next few legs of my journey to Phoenix.

In visiting those staff member in Omaha, God met me…He shined His love once again through His children, children I hadn’t met before, but children He was able to speak through. And there He stood in front of me, and spoke into me, “Continue forward, my daughter. I have more of my family to meet. This is only the beginning of your journey.”

And so we continued on…and I continued on towards God, and His people.

The Impossibility of Comfort

The Impossibility of Comfort

Usually it’s frowned upon to fall asleep at a Bible Study. Jesus won’t judge you, in fact, Paul had to raise someone from the dead for doing just so…and yet …it’s fair to say, is not recommended in such a setting…because though Jesus is patient and understanding, people tend to find it slightly offensive.

Proof of my bad sleeping habits!

But in the past month, I could probably have passed for a narcoleptic sea creature. If I wasn’t standing up, or engaged in general conversation, chances were I was either asleep or a blubbery manatee (bad simile?). And my close friends understood this, they had seen me asleep in chairs, couches, at tables, on floors… as it was an occurrence that became more regular as my stress levels had skyrocketed. I probably could have started a new trend…who needs planking when you have…. extreme napping?

This stress was due to the fact that in less than a month I would be moving to a different state…quite far from the one I grew up in…about 30 hours “far”. And though logically I knew it would be a great place to move to…the idea of leaving everyone I had grown so close to made me want to heave out all my innards onto the plush carpeted floor. Thankfully, my body took a less offensive route and would put me to sleep at any given moment…

Helping kids have fun…hopefully

The journey to this decision was a long one. Life after college certainly hadn’t gone how I had expected it to. I recognize now, for most people, that life rarely does. Yet, this left me in a bit of a quandary for the next four years, career wise…but what an adventure those four years were. I was able to spend time out of the country, work at a Bible Camp as well as work with at-risk school agers, helping them to experience a safe and fun environment as best I could. I learned a lot about people, about the harsh realities of broken families and how God could use me in simply being available to His whispers in the moments of the day.

But this past year I felt called out of waiting and into a new season of “going”. And so after much wrestling with God (thankfully no hips were popped out of joint, kneecaps on the other hand are a different story), but last spring I decided to take the plunge and apply for Seminary School to get a Masters in Counseling. As I searched for schools and looked at programs, one in particular stood out. A little school called Phoenix Seminary, located in…you guessed it…Phoenix, Arizona.

God provided assurance in so many ways. He spoke into my life through His word, through prayer, through the wisdom of others and His message was that I was not to fear but to go, to go so He could equip me for whatever path He had planned.

Yet, as the time to leave approached, my resolve began to dissolve. My body was rejecting the idea of leaving all I knew, mostly leaving the deep community I had built… What a strange sensation to be able to sleep at the drop of a hat…and forget food, warm salty tears had become my sustenance. I was experiencing the Bible reference first hand…and I was…what you could best define as…an ugly, unlovely mess.

And so there I slept on the armchair in my Bible Study leader’s house as one by one the rest of the Bible Study members filed out to go home. The last one left and I was startled into waking. And there the Leader sat across the room, on the couch…

Quickly apologizing for falling asleep, and in groggy fashion, I hoisted myself up off the chair and went to put my shoes on to leave.

His eyes followed me as I shoved one boot on, then the next, yawning and declaring how I’d better get home…

Some Bible Study Members

He looked at me in curious fashion, having seen the sobbing mess, the 27 year old napping child…the me who was very, very different from the me I normally am...and so posed a quiet question.

“How do you feel about going to Seminary?”

And the question pierced the very darkest part of my heart. “How did I feel about going? Why was I going to Seminary?”

And there it lingered…my faith so small…my fear so large…I had forgotten why I was going…and all I could feel was scared.

And I thought, “If I am supposed to go, why do I feel so nauseated? Why can’t I function like a normal human being every time I think of leaving?”

I wanted to cry right there, but instead the question was waiting to be answered.  An open wound needing to be cauterized.

And I felt God whisper gently inside me,

“I am with you. I will not forsake you.”

Suddenly, the words of the song Called Me Higher were thrust into my mind…”I could be safe, I could be safe here in your arms and never leave home never let these walls down…but you have called me Higher, you have called me Deeper…”

And I understood…God loves us no matter what. He loves us when we linger in the safety and comfort of who we are…I could be comfortable and stay the same and God would still love me.

But I didn’t want that…I wanted to shine God’s glory through my wretched weakness. To have faith like Elijah, Paul and David, who were called to hard things, and trusted with all their strength. But in order to have such faith, I had to try, to fail, to take one step into the unknown, even when everything around me screamed, NO! This isn’t safe! This isn’t comfortable! This isn’t possible for a timid girl like you…

Because, truth is, when we step out beyond ourselves that is where our impossibility meets God’s possibility.

To steal a quote I learned from a dear friend of mine,

“You can choose courage, or you can choose comfort, but you cannot choose both.” –Brene Brown

 How did I feel about going? Terrified…but I would go anyway, and that, that is what courage is.