Know

There is this great human desire to be known. We want to be seen in the fullness of ourselves. To believe that no part of us is too broken or too shameful, but that it is all beautiful and holy.

The only desire that seems to rival this is the desire to know. To see another person and know them as an entire universe. To know Love, to know God, to know belonging.

We are made in the image of God, I believe this more and more each day. Maybe more important than knowing the names of God or knowing what God is, we are supposed to know God. To know God on this side of Heaven and in the next, to know God in me and God in you.

And isn't it beautiful to experience a God whose greatest desires are to know and be known, just like us?

I want to know myself, I want to be known, and I want to know you. Because I don't ever want to miss out on seeing another variation of this image of God. 

Feeding the 4000

This came up during church today. What an absurd, beautiful story. It made me think about how the disciples were right, it would have been smarter to send the people away to get their own food. Disconnection was easier than connection in that moment.

It made me think about choosing proximity and giving all I have, rather than separation because I think I have nothing to offer. It made me realize that if I give the little I have, maybe that can be enough (or even more than enough).

I am choosing to believe in this whole thing.

Choosing abundance.
Choosing proximity.
Choosing togetherness.
Choosing presence.
Choosing to show up.  

Pieces

Healing is what God feels like on this side of Heaven. It's the brutal process of being broken open and put back together. Each time we are rebuilt we collect more pieces than we originally had, we become bigger. The old pieces are redeemed, the new ones illuminate it all. In the end we find that we are bigger and brighter than we ever could have hoped, and we slowly begin to trust the breaking.

Hope Street Blue

The first time I went to Cambodia I was 17 years old. Our team was building a house for a grandma who was living in a shack. We painted the house a bright blue color. It was stunning.

I came back a couple years later and found an entire row of houses had been built after hers. Each of those families had a house built by this same organization, each one was that same bright blue. They called it Hope Street. That street was a symbol to the community that there was hope, there are people who care for you and will love you when you have nothing to offer. That organization I worked with has now built over 50 homes throughout the provinces, and almost all of them are painted Hope Street Blue.

The time I spent with that organization sometimes seems like a lifetime ago. Lately I've been consumed with the tough work of healing, afraid I will never move past my own trauma. People have been telling me that if I want to pursue life as a missionary I will have to hide certain parts of me, and I was beginning to believe them. I started to wonder if god had a blueprint for my life and I took the wrong series of steps, now I was left carrying empty dreams.

Then this weekend I went on a mission trip to Mexico with my church of misfits. They allowed me to come with all parts of myself. None of us felt the need to hide or change to fit into this idea of "missionary". All we did was show up, embracing ourselves and each other. We gave one another hope and healing by bringing all of our hurts and hangups to the table.

As we painted a school together I looked down at my hands and noticed the paint was all over me. Much to my surprise, it was Hope Street Blue. A flood of memories came back and in that moment I realized how interconnected this whole experience is. The hope I saw in Cambodia was the same hope I saw in this Mexican school, the same hope I felt around the campfire with my church. My story has Hope Street Blue sprinkled all over the place, not a single experience has been wasted.

You see what I'm realizing is that God is not standing in the sky with a blueprint, waiting for me to make the right moves. No, God and I are creating something together. It's a grand tapestry, full of my darkness and my light... With strands of Hope Street Blue dispersed throughout.

I see now that I can keep creating the life I long for.