twitter time-out
It seems Twitter has put me on a time-out.
I have no idea why, but my account got suspended about 2 weeks ago. I filled out a support ticket to notify Twitter—and emailed them multiple times—but as of yet, I haven’t heard anything back. It’s so frustrating!
So no, I haven’t unfollowed you. I’m not ignoring you. And I haven’t been abducted by African militia. I’m alive and well. Just Twitter-less.
When my internet is working, I’m posting to Instagram (I’m @gritandglory there too). So be sure to follow me there so we can at least interact that way.
I miss you guys! I’d love to hear what’s going on in your world. So how about we swap highs and lows?
My high this week was… hmmm… I really suck at narrowing things down to only one. So I’m gonna pick two. My high work-wise was walking through the construction site of Love Botswana‘s new Life Centre. It is going to be the new home for their church, offices, and outreach programs—and will have the first indoor gymnasium in the country! It is really exciting and encouraging to see a dream come to life so tangibly.
My other high was the first down/slow night since we got here. Linda (my colleague) and I had a Friends marathon the other night. We did nothing but laugh, and it was definitely good medicine!
My low is feeling exhausted. I’ve seriously been so tired. Between high pain days, the heat, and a very full work schedule, I’ve just been worn out and seriously dragging…
What’s your high and low from this week?
embracing uncertainty
I am learning to live in the tension of uncertainty.
To simply embrace it, rather than fight it. Because contending with it doesn’t get me anywhere. It doesn’t yield answers or bring clarity or cause lightbulb moments of understanding.
Because honestly, more often than not, there aren’t really answers to be found or resolution to be sought.
God promised to redeem all things. He never said they’d make sense.
That’s why He gives peace that surpasses our understanding. While there’s a lot I will never understand, I can be anchored by peace even in the tumultuous seas of ambiguity.
God shines brightest in contradictions. There is wholeness in brokenness. Sufficiency in weakness. Strength in surrender. Honor in humility.
I’ve equally found Him to be ever-present in the contradictions of my life. Those moments and seasons that seem contrary to His character and inconsistent with where He’d been leading me. Those situations that pull the rug out from under me and even those that shatter my world and my heart.
He is right there with me in those painful, dark, confusing contradictions. Ever calling me to trust and to let go of my need to understand.
Faith and uncertainty can dance together.
Not canceling each other out, but also not at odds with each other. Both beautiful in their honesty and gut-level rawness. Lord, I believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.
And so I am choosing to live in the tension of the contradictions, and to trust that He is redeeming even what will never make sense.
Because I know that redeeming what is hopelessly irreconcilable is His specialty…
monday morning confession
I’m pretty sure I just had my most embarrassing moment.
Right here in Maun, Botswana.
Yesterday after church I grabbed lunch with some friends at this little café across the street from the airport. It was 94 degrees, so we sat way in the back of the restaurant, next to the giant open windows to enjoy the slight breeze. I ran to the bathroom right before we left, and then we all walked over to the coffee shop upstairs in the airport.
Right when we got to the counter, one of my friends started pulling frantically at the back of my skirt.
The bottom of it was stuck in the waistline!
I turned every imaginable shade of red and then some, and hastily fixed my skirt. And then my eyes got huge as I backtracked in my mind and realized it must’ve happened upon exiting the bathroom. Because that meant I’d walked All. That. Way. like that!
All the way through the restaurant from our table in the back, across the street, into the airport, up the stairs, and into the coffee shop. Oh. My. Dang!
Maun saw quite a bit more of me than I intended, that’s for sure.
flotsam and jetsam
Have you seen the Spring Update post on the One Word 365 site?
I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss it, because I’m really looking forward to reading how everyone’s word and year are taking shape…
Maybe you’ve written an update in the past several weeks that counts as your Spring Update, or maybe you need to force yourself to stop and write one.
I’m in the latter category.
Although I’m feeling overwhelmed by more to do than time to do it in, and honestly don’t know when I’ll get my update post done. But hopefully the fact that I’m putting this on my blog will motivate me. (If only that could stretch my time and my energy too. Hmm…)
Anyway…
Please help spread the word and direct people over to the Update page on the One Word 365 site. Let’s rally our global community and actively encourage each other to keep on keeping on.
Also — in completely unrelated news — I had the incredible honor or writing for Prodigal Magazine this month. You may have already seen it (if you follow me on Twitter), but if you haven’t…
I shared a piece of my journey I’ve never shared before. On getting tested for HIV…
Things here in Africa are going well. My days have been very full and busy, but lots of work is getting done. I am really enjoying and appreciating being back in a team work environment again. It’s been so great to have amazing people to brainstorm with and work alongside.
Thank you all for your amazing encouragement, prayers, love, and friendship. It is definitely making being on the other side of the world a bit easier. And I am so grateful…
Okay, your turn.
How about you leave me some flotsam and jetsam of your own. (I’ve spent about 7 minutes trying to determine if that’s a question or a statement — my own personal crisis of punctuation!) (Okay, all my rambling is clear evidence of how exhausted I am…)
What are some random thoughts and happenings going on in your world?
healing in the heartache
I flew to Africa over the weekend…
I’m here for 5 weeks. I am spending a month in Maun, Botswana—the place that stole my heart for Southern Africa when I was only 15—to help Love Botswana Outreach Mission develop communications policies and strategies. Then I’m heading down to Cape Town for a week to work with Bridge for Hope on some project development possibilities.
That’s what I’m doing now.
I consult with non-profits, assisting with communications and development—translating my 13 years of leading a ministry in Africa into ways I can strategically help other growing non-profits.
It feels like a natural fit and like I’m in way over my head all at the same time. But I am beyond grateful for the chance I have to do this, and the opportunities I have to still be involved with what God is doing through ministries around the world. Such a tremendous gift.
Bittersweet at times, but still a priceless gift…
I forced myself to find words for what’s going on in my heart being back in Africa again. About the unbelievable timing of this trip. About healing in the heartache.
And I’m sharing them over at Deeper Story today.
Would you come sit with me there?
fragile
Fragile.
Like the costly alabaster jar broken at His feet.
Like the rickety contraption lowering the cripple through the roof.
Like the woman crawling through the crowd for her healing.
Fragile.
Like the tears of two sisters for their brother who didn’t have to die.
Like the nakedness of the man in chained torment of his mind.
Like the interrupted desperate plea from a Centurion for his deathly ill daughter.
Fragile.
Like the dull ache of a lifelong thorn in the side.
Like the embers of passion and calling being fanned into flame.
Like the vapor of dreams dissolved.
Fragile.
Like the hope for a Messiah shattered by the strikes of a hammer on a hillside cross.
Like the silence of the Saturday that sealed the tomb more tightly than the stone door.
Like the gasps of fear and hope in discovering an empty grave.
Fragile.
Like the tentative faith of a hand outstretched to feel the scars.
Like the can’t-believe-my-eyes belief in a resurrected Savior.
Like the obedience to follow transformed into an obedience to go.
Fragile.
Like my (in)ability to find words and use them well.
Like the fears, uncertainties, and loneliness of my sojourning soul.
Like the weight of self-discovery: momentary mirror glimpses of who I really am and how far I have to go.
Fragile.
Is my heart.
Asking Him
and you
to hold her gently.
5 Minutes with Discipulus
I’m being interviewed over on the Discipulus website today. My friend Moe asked me some killer questions. Like:
- Having served in Africa for thirteen years, what is the greatest lesson that you learned?
- You have gone through so much in life, and yet, you choose to love. What is the driving factor behind that love?
- Jesus asked His disciples, “Who do you say that I am”? Who do you say that He is in your life?
So to hear me unpack discipleship, soapbox about “avoiding the appearance of evil”, and speak courage to fearful hearts (including my own), link over and read through the interview.
You are invited to ask questions in your comments there on the post, so if there’s anything you wanna know about/from me… feel free to ask!
Hope to see you there…
in the cleft of the rock
“God said, ‘Look, here is a place right beside me. Put yourself on this rock. When my Glory passes by, I’ll put you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with my hand until I’ve passed by.’”
Sometimes when it’s the darkest…
God is the closest.
heart homelessness
Sometimes I feel like my heart is homeless.
As though she has nowhere to land. And I’m swallowed up by loneliness, even if I’m surrounded by people. And my feelings are all over the map rather than in one specific place. And home—a place where I feel safe, understood, seen—is nowhere in sight.
Each of us walks such individual journeys, that even someone who has been somewhere similar still can’t fully understand the place we find ourselves in. There is a unique loneliness that comes with our paths. A loneliness that cannot be avoided. An inevitable they-just-don’t-get-it-ness.
Heart homelessness.
Sometimes it feels more overwhelming, and sometimes I don’t feel it at all. It comes and goes like the tide, though without predictability or rhythm.
And my heart’s left carrying around her makeshift cardboard shelter… always looking for a place and a people that feel like home.
I know deep down that Home is only in Christ. That He is my shelter, my refuge. He is my security. In Him I am always seen, known, understood, loved, and safe.
But I also think He calls us to find a mirrored sense of home in community.
In those times when it happens, it is absolutely beautiful! A miraculous gift… I have lived this, experienced this, time and time again. There are no words to describe the matchless wonder of this tangible extension of our Heavenly Home…
Yet relationships have seasons… Friends move on… Even the best-intended aren’t always trustworthy (myself included)… And everyone’s journeys are different (even when they are similar)…
So sometimes our hearts simply have nowhere to land…
What then?
I don’t know…
As usual, my writing (like my heart) takes the shape of a question mark rather than a period. And so instead of presuming to have an answer, I ask you…
What do you do when your heart feels homeless?
monday morning confession
I love kitchen gadgets—well, to be honest, I love pretty much anything kitchen-related—but I don’t even like to cook.
I figure that if I have to do it, I might as well do it with the best stuff out there.
Makes perfect sense to me!
Okay… Your turn.
