Be Strong and Courageous

 

Sometimes, we need reminders.

Be Strong and Courageous (Joshua 1:9)

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to speak to a group of women about my faith journey. I’ve done speaking engagements before, but never ever had I spoken about my faith, in a church, to a group of women I didn’t know. This was a first. I felt honored. But truthfully, I also felt a bit like an imposter. Me? Speak about faith? Pffft. I’m not qualified for that. I’m not good enough for that.

Be Strong and Courageous.

I was worried they’d see right through me. See that I was an imposter. Just a regular chick who has a tendency to cuss, who doesn’t go to church enough, who doesn’t know the Bible enough, who isn’t Christian enough.

Be Strong and Courageous.

My talk was going to come immediately after the replay of the video of Christine Caine speaking at the IF:Gathering this past February, in Austin, TX. So to prepare, I watched her speak again. I was there, in Austin, and listened to her live. But  a refresh would be a good way to get my mind right, as I readied myself to write my story.

Be Strong and Courageous.

So I sat on the couch, laptop in hand, and hit play. And from that came the following talk that I gave to a group of beautiful, loving, accepting and seeking women. And guess what, as I wrote it, I no longer felt inadequate, or worried whether I was enough. I no longer felt like an imposter. I felt like a beating heart, learning to live and love – just like everyone else on this planet.

Be Strong and Courageous.

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“At the threshold of every transition in our life, the devil will send a spirit of fear.”

– Christine Caine, IF:Gathering 2015

She also goes on to say many other moving, stirring the deep parts of my soul, kinds of things:

“If you’re hanging on to what is dead, you cannot move forward.”

…and…

“You are so scared of stepping into what will be, that you keep hanging onto what was.”

Yep. This was me. Let me explain.

I’ve believed in God for as long as I can remember, but he wasn’t always my BFF. I wasn’t always connected to him, in that sort of ‘he’s the first person I go to’ kind of way. There were many, many years I knew he was there, but we didn’t chat regularly. I didn’t feel pulled towards him. And worse yet, I let previous standards which I felt were placed upon me, get in my way. Years passed. I went to church. Occasionally. Very occasionally. I prayed. Here and there.

Social issues and rigid religious beliefs got in my way of engaging further.

And then.

Four years ago – my son, diagnosed with multiple mental illnesses, spent his first of two stays in a mental health treatment hospital, for suicidal tendencies and self harm.

Where. Was. My. God?

Why would he place such a burden on a delicate young soul? 

I was angry.

Two years later, my son had his second hospitalization. He’d taken off his long-sleeved shirt at school and attempted to strangle himself with it. The why’s really don’t matter. But the what next’s, do.

I started praying. More often.

After weeks of treatment, my son slowly welcomed his happier, gentler self back. Summer was good and happy and full of light. As we edged closer to Fall, I recognized it was time to make a decision about confirmation for my son. Should I sign him up or not? I had been ruminating on this decision for almost a year. Stressing about it. Getting filled with anxiety. Would it be beneficial for him? Was I considering enrolling him in it, just because it was the right and ‘good’ Christian thing to do? Was I enrolling him only to save myself the judgement of others if I didn’t?

Or did I truly want him involved? Did I whole heartedly believe it would be good for his soul?

At some point, I felt a clear intention I was supposed to enroll him. And so I did. As summer came to a close, I received an email a week prior to my son’s confirmation starting, asking for a parent volunteer to lead his small group. Without one, they’d have to disband my son’s group and disperse them into other groups, on different days and times.

I felt a complete and resounding feeling that I was supposed to volunteer to be their small group leader.

“WHAAAAAT?!?”, said the other part of my brain. “Are you crazy? You are the LEAST qualified person to lead this group. You swear too much. You can’t recite Bible verses, you haven’t been to church, since…oh I don’t EVEN know, F O R E V E R.”

And yet, just as Christine reminded us, still He said to me, “You must go. Step your foot in that dirt. I am not the God of what was. I am the God of I am”.

I didn’t know why, but I knew the answer was to say yes. And so I did. I put my foot in that dirt. Full of fear and unworthiness, yet also filled with strength courage and faith. I knew, despite my fear and complete trepidation, I was supposed to do this. Period.

“Until we learn to serve, we will never be ready,” Christine said. “You’ve got to be willing to work.”

And so I was. Willing to work. Willing to say YES to what God had designed for me. After all, Ephesians 2:10 reminds us of this.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

This is what I realized. This, saying ‘yes’ to confirmation, was the start of me saying ‘yes’ to many other things. It was the start of me listening louder. Not just hearing, but listening. Obediently. Even if and when it didn’t make sense to others. I moved forward, and kept saying yes.

Since then, my life has unfolded in bountiful and beautiful ways. Do you know what? I now know this, which follows. I now understand it in the depths of my being…

“The call of God is inconvenient,” Christine says, “start to move in to what God has for you.”

And oh for all the goodness which follows, my friends. Do you know what happens? This happens.

Ephesians 2:13

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near”

Yes indeed. I have been brought near.