Opening Up Again

Hi friends!

It's been a long time since I've written here. I've missed it a lot, but I really couldn't bring myself to commit to doing it again. The truth is, I've been having a really difficult time lately. For the last 5 years, I've been through a lot of emotional roller coasters. Funny enough, it was five years ago when I decided to start this blog. I guess things just built up, and I didn't have the energy anymore to do something I really loved. Not that I have to explain everything, but I guess I just want others to feel welcome here if they're going through a hard time too.

A lot has happened in the last few years, and would take whole books to write about instead of a blog post. I think the best summary I can give is this: I've had to give up just about all of my dreams. I had always considered myself to be a dreamer. I used to want to be a photographer when I was a kid because I wanted to travel the world. After I became a Christian at 15, I dreamed of being opening up a school for kids like me who weren't comfortable with school but still wanted to reach their potential somehow. I also wanted to start a ministry with conferences for teenagers in order for them to have a genuine encounter with God. I wanted to be a worship pastor, a teacher, a mentor, a counsellor but more than anything, I wanted to inspire people around the world to know who God is and live their life for Him. I wanted so much, and I never thought that anything could stop me.

At 18, I went off to Texas for a 12-month internship where my ambition only grew. I was excited to come home and start building my dreams. I was hopeful, and was ready to conquer the world. Look out everyone, here comes Lisette.

Before the plane even took off from Dallas, I was confronted with obstacles. Again, if I were to explain everything we would be here forever, but it was the first time that it looked like things wouldn't go my way. At first, I was crushed, but quickly became optimistic. "It's okay Lisette," I would say to myself in my pep talks. "Keep relying on God and everything will be okay!" Even though the steps I wanted to take toward my dreams were becoming unstable, I just told myself that I could put my plans on hold. Later, when things settled down, I could pick it back up again. For now, just go at it from another angle and we can still make progress toward my goals.

But as more challenges kept coming, the pile got bigger of plans that I had to put on hold. Here's the thing, when you're holding that many things at once, you get weaker and weaker from the weight. I kept holding on, convincing myself that my plans didn't have to change, I just had to work harder to make them happen. Even as doors kept closing, calls weren't returned, and the years passed without any movement, I still kept holding on.

My heart was breaking, the tears wouldn't stop, and I thought I was the problem. I kept trying to talk to God about what was going on, looking for answers and some sort of comfort. "What is going on? Why is nothing working? What do I have to do?" God heard me. He answered, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear. So I stopped listening without realizing. I still prayed, I still studied the Bible to understand, but I was only looking for the answers I liked. Not only was I closing off from the people around me, but I was closing off from God too. Why weren't my dreams happening? What was I doing wrong?

Even as I write this, I realize I've written other times about this same thing. I keep processing and re-processing this same period of my life to try to understand what went wrong. It's hard, because who I am right now when I'm about to turn 25 is not the same girl at 15 who said yes to following God. I was full of passion and ambition then, and now I feel like I'm pessimistic and cynical.

So why am I here? Why am I writing? What's new this time around and why would I post about it? Well, I'm back in the United States for another (but much shorter) internship, and things got really bad again. There were more dreams that I had to "put on hold" and more challenges coming from every side. It's been a huge struggle most days to pretend to be a normal-functioning person, then sneaking moments here and there to break down and just be sad. These moments aren't always convenient, sometimes I'm at work, sometimes it's in the car during our commute, sometimes it's during worship at church, sometimes it's in my room when I know everyone has stopped listening. I always have to run away and always try to hide it from my coworkers and housemates. It's my habit, keep the sadness to myself and pretend to be okay for everyone else.

Putting on a brave face for other people is hard enough, but I was hiding from God too. I've felt God knocking on the door to my heart for a long time now, but I couldn't bring myself to talk to Him. I used to talk to God for hours and pour out everything in my heart to Him, the good and the bad. He really was my best friend. But after all the heartbreak and disappointment, I didn't want to admit to Him how sad I was, and what a failure I felt like. I just wanted to hide under my blankets and figure it out on my own.

I finally had a breakdown that lasted longer than usual. This time was different because at the end of it, I looked up and started praying like I hadn't in a long time. I admitted the resentment and hurt that I was holding onto. I admitted that I felt like a failure, I admitted the bad decisions that I had made, I admitted the heartbreak. By the end of it I felt pathetic and weak, but God embraced me like He always does and let me be broken. I complained. He listened. I cried. He replied with His answers, and this time I listened. I wish I could explain how this all works, but this is where the written word fails me. It something I could only really talk about over pizza and an open Bible. Me talking to God, it's more than just processing, it's having my heart be answered by the one who created it.

Does that make sense? I swear I try to avoid using flowery language that doesn't really say anything in the end. I just know that all humans were created to know God in a personal relationship and to worship Him. That breakdown I had, it was just that: me being with my best friend, and then praising Him because of how wonderful He is.

I feel like these posts are always so much longer than I mean them to be, but I'll end it off by saying that I don't want to be closed off anymore because of dreams that I've held onto. I'm letting go of my dreams, trusting God with His plan, but ultimately following Him in whatever He wants to do. It's scary. So I get to do this afraid!

Bethany

Dear Bethany,

Last Monday when I walked up to the academic building, my heart broke when I saw our Canadian flag flying at half-mast. I knew we were flying it for you, that Redeemer was mourning the loss of your light on our little campus.

It was just two weeks ago that we lost you, that the email came to our inboxes informing us of your accident, your surgery, your medically induced coma, and finally, of your passing. Today, Redeemer held a celebration of your life that was open to the Redeemer community and your family. As memories of you were shared, singing of your favourite worship songs, and reading of your favourite verses from the Bible, I'm ashamed to say that I began to cry.

Funny, anyone reading this might say that crying for the loss of a life is anything but shameful, but the fact is I've been ashamed of my sadness since your passing. I didn't know you personally Bethany, and felt that my sadness was nothing compared to that of your best friends, your family, but mostly your parents. In the two and a half years that we attended Redeemer together, I only had one conversation with you. I didn't think I had any right to be crying the way I did.

I wish I had known you. I remember that conversation we had on the first day of LAUNCH where the commuters got together for a meet and greet. I remember you saying how you had something like a 40 minute drive to Redeemer from home, but you loved that time. You said that you used the drive over to play music and worship the Lord before you started your day. I  remember your smile and the way your eyes lit up when you talked about it, and I thought, "This girl is genuine in her faith. She doesn't do this out of obligation, but out of joyful love for God". That conversation couldn't have lasted for more than a few minutes, but it has always stuck in my mind since that day years ago.

Every time I saw you after that in the halls, I would think, "That's Bethany!" and I was instantly a little happier because I knew what a great person you were. The first time I saw you, I contemplated saying hi, but decided against it. I'm painfully shy, am afraid of making friends, and avoid meeting new people at all costs. Whenever I saw you go by it was as if I was seeing an opportunity for a great friendship pass me.

Today during your celebration, as I heard your friends and general admirers talk about you, it was clear to me how right I was: you were like sunshine to those around you, and anyone who didn't know you was lacking in their lives. It was also clear to me how I had no reason to be intimidated because you would've welcomed me with open arms. I wish I was braver, I wish I did say hi, I wish we could've been friends.

Listening to the many stories about you today, and hearing your favourite worship songs and Bible verses, it was obvious that you were someone who was not intimidated by relationships because you loved so freely. More than that, you were not intimidated by God. You delighted in Him and His love for you; you saw Him as your daddy Abba. I forget so often how God smiles at me, all I seem to remember are the ways I fail him. But not you, you were secure in the way He loved you, and doesn't even remember our failures. I have a feeling you wouldn't have let me forget about God's delight for His creation.

So I cried as we sang, "You're a Good Father" because I'm touched by your life even after you're gone. Even now, you're challenging me to remember that I'm always a daddy's girl in the eyes of my Saviour. The way my earthly dad spoils and loves me to bits and pieces is nothing compared to God's love for me.

Maybe I'll be a little braver from now on, and try to be friends with someone who loves God the way you do. Maybe I'll even say hi. But for now, when I talk to Jesus, I'll ask Him to say hi to you for me. I hope you get my message.

See you in heaven Bethany. I'll be sure to come find you there.

-Lisette

My Life as of Late

This is me wanting to write again.

Maybe you noticed, but more probably you didn't, I haven't been writing in a very long time. There's a reason for that, the same for why when I have to catch up with people, the hardest part is when they ask me, "How have you been?"

I want to tell them that I've been great. I want to say that I've been living out my dreams, making the best of friends, going on wild adventures, or even that life has been simple but lovely. I want to say that it's been good since the last time I've seen them.

Unfortunately, I always sigh and say, "Life has been really hard."

That's basically what happens every time I've thought about sitting down to write. What am I supposed to say? Life has been hard. It's an uphill battle. One that I've been losing. Pick your metaphor, but the gist of it is that I fell back into depression.

Yes, depression. The stupid demon that tormented me as a child, seducing me into the idea of suicide, convincing me that I wasn't loved by anyone, not even by my own parents. That same depression came back and I surrendered all too willingly.

These last few years have been the longest, hardest ones I've had to endure. My dreams have been crushed, my heart broken, and I've had my self-worth challenged. Again and again and again. It's no wonder that I stopped writing. How could I express what was going on inside of me when I didn't even want to face myself?

 I'm not sure how to summarize the last year since I last wrote for this blog (okay, maybe a bit more than that).It's like all the commercials say, it was as is I was walking through a fog. I didn't want to live anymore. I wasn't motivated to get out of bed. I wanted to cry when I realized that I had to face my life again. Everything in my life felt too hard: school, work, church, youth group, family...all I wanted to do was run away. I thought that if I could leave everything and everyone that I knew, I would be finally be happy.

But I didn't run away, I just kept going. I did get out of bed, I did go to work, school, youth group and church. I did spend time with my family and I did face my days. All the while, there was an elephant sitting on my chest, getting heavier and heavier. But I kept going.

It was only a few weeks before I talked to my mom about it. I updated her and the rest of my family saying that yes, the depression was back but there wasn't an urgent need to worry, I wasn't having any suicidal thoughts. I let them know that I decided to see a counsellor at my school and that I would be talking to the dean about my school work. Things got a little better after that, counselling helped a lot, my school was very accommodating and helped me in anyway they could, and I kept my shifts at work to 2 a week. I can't say I felt happy for a while, but I was finally managing and didn't feel so overwhelmed anymore.

I think that somewhere in my second semester, something in my heart clicked and a bit of warmth started to come back. I found myself not dreading social situations like I had before. I could get excited about little things again. I was making new friends, and I suddenly cared about what I was learning in my courses instead of just trying to pass them. There was a point where the fog cleared and I started to enjoy my life. Even now that I write this I just want to dance and sing! Even though I didn't realize it at the time, and even though it didn't really feel like it either, my depression was being conquered.

Can I honestly say I'm not depressed anymore? I'm not sure. I didn't even think that anything had changed until I started writing this post. Looking back now, I can definitely say that I'm getting out of it. I just can't say for sure whether the battle is over or not. I still have a lot of days that I want to cry for no reason. Sometimes I don't want to get out of bed, or even see my friends that I love so dearly. I just don't know.

Here's what I do know, or at least what I think I know. I believe that my depression has been reactionary, it's a type of depression that is triggered by a major stressful event. It's what my counsellor told me was her theory, and I think she was right. Although she thought it was in reaction to failing one of my classes, I'm coming to a very different conclusion.

When I was 16, I went on my first missions trip to Dallas, Texas and it was a trip that changed my life. I was surrounded by Christians that believed that God can do absolutely anything. I didn't understand it. They prayed for miracles and they happened. Someone needed another 600 dollars to actually go on the trip with us and they got it within a few hours. It was a faith that I had never seen before and didn't even know was possible, but there they were, praying down the impossible from God himself.

Ever since then, I started seeing the world in a new way. It was like something awakened within me and I could do anything. Seriously. My dreams expanded and exploded so much bigger than I think anyone anticipated. No mission trip seemed impossible anymore because God would provide. I could go to the year-long internship in another country that cost almost as much as what my parents made in a year, because God would give me the money. Nothing was impossible, I could do it.

Going to that internship only fueled this idea even more. The Lord did provide for me that year, in a way I still don't understand. A lot of impossible things did happen for me that year, and my heart changed so much. Desires changed from easy and fun adventures to hard, labourious projects. I didn't just want to go places anymore, I wanted to fight for change in my own church and in the Christians around me. It was going to be difficult, but the Lord was on my side and I could do it.

When I went home, I felt like a cannon ball just waiting to be let loose. Basically, I was the kid yelling "Put me in the game coach! I got this!" but God had other plans.

I don't want to go into details, but life became very difficult after that point. There were a lot of times that I would finally start to go for something and the Lord would shut it down, it was a hard no from him. Then I'd go for something else and God gave me another no. Again and again, I found myself dreaming and watching that dream die. I didn't understand what was happening. I felt like I was circling in the same place over and over.

Meanwhile, all my friends from the internship were moving forward in their lives. People were getting in relationships, married, having families, getting fantastic jobs, serving in ministry, or going to exciting places. They were all things I wanted but couldn't have, because God kept saying no. I was really discouraged. Why not me Lord? You know how much passion I have for this, why not let me have it? Finally, it came to the point I just stopped dreaming altogether. No more trying, no more planning, what was the point? God was probably going to say no anyway. I distanced myself from God, finding it hard to be with someone who kept saying no all the time.

I never took a minute to stop and reflect on what was happening. I just knew what I was feeling and kept going from there. Never once did I try to get out of my head and go beyond my own emotions. Even while I write this I realize I made it all about me. Not once did I ask God what He was up to and how could I get involved. Nope. I just said "this is what I want and I'm waiting for you to make it happen".  By trying to dream beyond my perceived realm of possibilities, I was actually limiting God to only do what I wanted.

I can't do this anymore.

One day I talked to God, I mean really talked to Him and it suddenly hit me what I had been doing this entire time. I was trying to make my dreams happen with or without God. That's when I heard Him, loud and clear, "It's an empty life trying to be a branch without being attached to the vine." I got so wrapped up in my head and what I wanted that I completely stopped looking towards the Lord. I love God, I really do but I get in this habit of trying to do everything myself and I quickly forget about Him.

I don't want that life anymore. I don't want it because I wasn't created to live that way. God designed humans in such a way that we're supposed to be completely dependant on Him. When we try to do anything without God, everything gets out of balance and it just doesn't work. We end up making gods out of other things in our lives by depending on them to get us through the day. Or we depend on ourselves and our success and/or ability to make it. In the end, we're not perfect and we can't sustain ourselves. We burn out, we fail, and we just don't make the cut of living on our own.

To conclude, my life lately has been messy, complicated, confusing but all the while full of the glory of God. How? Because in all the lies I believed, in all the awful situations I had to endure, God was still with me. He was with me that whole time and was always pointing me back towards Him. I just had to stop long enough to look up and see Him staring right back at me.

"I never left you," He says. "I've always been here with you, with a plan and purpose for you that would bewilder you. I'm on your side Lisette, and I'm always here fighting for you."

And He wins that fight

Everytime. 

An Open Letter to...Myself

Dear Lisette,

You need to stop hating yourself.

For all your emotions, your brokeness, the idols you worship, the lies you cling onto, you are not unworthy of love.

Yes, I went there.

I know you're tired of hurting and feeling out of control. I know you're tired of going through the exact same thing again and again because of your own bad choices. I know the way you cringe when you see yourself offering sacrifices to your idols. I know it makes you want to break things when you realize you still haven't moved on.

You hate yourself for being so scared. You hate yourself for not opening up and letting anyone into your heart. You hate yourself for running away not only from your problems, but your dreams as well. You hate yourself for not even trying make good choices with your life. You hate yourself for giving up.

You want to get over everything. You want to get over that one boy that made it his personal mission to embarrass and make you feel ugly for all of middle school. You want to get over the opportunities you missed out on in school because you stopped trying. You want to get over losing friends who you thought would be your family for the rest of your life. You want to get over wanting to cry all the time because you never feel whole. You want to get over being afraid to go to sleep at night because you're going to remember how much you don't like your life right now.

Lisette, you need to stop hating yourself.

For all the terrible things you see, all of that is what makes you HUMAN. Do you think there isn't another person in the world who feels tired? No one else could possibly feel overwhelmed ? Could it really be that people in general haven't made bad choices of their own?

Do you really think everyone has it all together?

Everyone has a story, and every one of those stories is less than perfect. Your life is no different, so quit beating yourself up for not being "normal" like everyone else seems to be.

Man Lisette, do you know that when God looks at you, he smiles?  Not only that, but He SINGS?

The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing."

Zephaniah 3:17

Do you get that every time you chastise yourself, you break God's heart?
  

Picture a small child working on their math homework. Now imagine that same kid yelling at themselves and thinking they're stupid because they can't get it right. Now imagine if that was your own kid, your own flesh and blood that you would do anything for. Wouldn't you want to cry? What would you do? What would you say?

"Stop that. You're not stupid, you're still learning."
"But I can't get it! Everybody else is already moving on, but I'm stuck on this one page."
"It's okay that you're taking longer. Just take a breath and try again."
"But I've tried so many times. I'll never figure it out."
"Let me help you. We'll get it together."

Doesn't that sound so much like the conversations you have with God?

I get that your life isn't in the best place right now, and this really doesn't fix any of your problems, but knock it off. You make mistakes, you make poor decisions, you sin, and you cry when everything goes wrong. You're human, and God loves you anyway.

but God shows his love for us in that while we were still SINNERS, Christ DIED for us.

Romans 5:8

That's all there is to it.

The Moment that Won't Define My Life.

There once was a boy who said "I love you", only to find himself later taking it back, telling that same girl, "I was wrong, I never loved you".

Something happened to that girl the day he said those words. She found herself feeling stupid for believing him, then hating herself for still wanting him even after he had hurt her. Why am I wasting my heart on him? She would think. I'm such an idiot, who would ever love me...

Since that day, I've spent the better part of my life loathing my heart. I've hated who I am because I never seem to stop with this same pattern: see a guy, fall for the guy. Over and over again, I thought that this time would be different, this guy would be the one who could take all the hurt away and make me whole again. I'll give my heart to him, everything I am I'll hand over because in the end, and I know it this time, he'll take care of me.

And then I'm wrong.

And then I cry and cry and cry, hating myself more than I did before.

This school year has been a hard one for me, so much so that I shut down my feelings. I saw things piling up in my attic again, but this time I lost the will to fight. I talked about this a little bit in my last post, the idea of not processing my feelings anymore. I didn't really know what happened, but I stopped processing those feelings again, in a worse way than before.

I didn't know how to explain it, but here it is: I wasn't just ignoring my feelings, I hated them.

When that boy took back his "I love you", I did everything in my power to get it back. Not from him, but from any guy. I would turn around and see a boy, a cute one of course, and would latch onto him, hoping that he would be the one to eventually love me and fix my life. When (I say when because it always happened) he didn't even notice me, or did but just didn't like me, I would fall apart. Why? Why won't he like me? What's wrong with me? Am I so terrible that he couldn't even try me out?

Then I would turn around, scan the room for the next guy, and start all over again. I'll get it right this time.

I let bitterness grow in my being to the point where I absolutely hated my heart. Why wouldn't I? Most of my misery comes from boys and the feelings I had for them that were rejected. I mean, what was wrong with me? Who made boys the centre of their universe to the point where their thoughts, emotions, and actions are all controlled by the guy the happens to be looking at her in the moment?

I didn't just hate my heart, as if that wasn't enough, I was disgusted by it. Why are you so pathetic?

Well Satan, you attacked me. You attacked my heart, you attacked my thoughts, you attacked my driven spirit, you attacked my beliefs in the victory that God has for me.

But not anymore. You lose Satan, under God's foot you have lost.

I'm done with you twisting my thoughts into ones that aren't true. "My heart is disgusting" lie. Lie lie lie. My heart is beautiful. It's been crafted by the hands that created the mountains, the one who put the clouds in the sky, who pieced together the flowers growing in my yard, who created the complexity of the human body itself. The One who loves beyond human understanding, who creates beauty out of brokeness, who brings forth victory through death.

Yahweh. He made my heart. For all that it holds, God is the one who made my heart beautiful.

Here it is: I've made bad choices. I'm not proud of them, not by a long shot. I made an idol out of men, I've looked to them to be my Saviour and put me back together again. I thought my life would be perfect if only a guy would say he loved me, that he thought I was beautiful. My choice, my bad.

But you know what Satan? That doesn't make me pathetic. That one moment, where someone said a false "I love you", and everything I've done since then, it doesn't define me. It doesn't make me disgusting. It makes me human. God created me to be completely dependent on Him and His grace. Nothing more and nothing less. It makes me redeemable. When Jesus died on the cross, He knew He was taking all of this down with Him. But man, when He rose up three days later, He knew He was taking me up too.

I've been redeemed. There's nothing in me that's disgusting because it all belongs to God. I refuse to hate my heart. I refuse to hate myself. I refuse to ever for one second stop fighting for the light God is calling me to. I am free from this idolatry. I am free because God made me free.

What's my conclusion in all of this? The devil is a liar. He told me that my heart is so vile that it's not worth saving. Ignore it and shut it down Lisette, don't even touch it. I believed him, but I don't anymore.

You lose, Satan. I chose God, every time I'll choose Him and the truth He's declared over my life.

Don't Over-think It

The title doesn't speak to the theme of this post at all, it's speaking to me.

I generally take a long time before putting up a blog post. I take a lot of time to write my thoughts down, then to re-write it in a way that makes sense to people who don't live in my head like I do, cut out a lot of unnecessary back story (like this one, which I generally would have gotten rid of after reading it over again for the 60th time) and then I get stuck on the title. I'll admit, one of the major reasons I haven't put anything up here since July is that I've been avoiding it because I know how long the process takes me. With school having just started and all, I just forced myself to forget about it.

Tonight, however, I wanted to write something that struck me so suddenly that I knew I had to get this down. I started by trying to come up with a title, but as soon as I hit the back space on my original one, I knew I would sit here forever until I got the "perfect one", or give up altogether thinking I'll just write it another night (or 6 months from now). Therefore, I went with not over-thinking it. Hence my title. I'm sticking with it.

Now that we've covered the unnecessary back story (I'm almost sorry I'm not cutting it out), let's get to what I really wanted to talk about...I'm not sure how to sum it up in one statement, so let's just jump into it with both feet, shall we?

I really enjoy writing. Ever since I was a young girl, I would make up stories in my head and I wanted to share them with everyone else, so I started writing. I remember my English teacher in middle school really encouraged me in it, so I kept going. Writing soon became my escape, and my therapy; it was the only place where I could venture into the depths of my heart without being afraid. I soon knew myself completely and was confident in who I was.

Then high school began, and I just got busy with life. I knew how much time writing took up, so I eventually stopped and focused all my energy on school. However, life didn't just get busy, it got hard. I was thirteen, going through a lot of changes in my relationships, emotions, how much time I was spending on the computer, the stuff I was reading/watching, what I felt about myself...everything. And I had stopped writing. I wasn't processing my feelings anymore, I wasn't dealing with anything anymore. I stuffed everything down further and further, pretending that none of it was important enough to actually deal with it.

It wasn't until just a few months before I graduated from the Honor Academy that I started writing in my journal consistently again, and I saw the difference. It was in that time where I started cleaning out my attic and began claiming my freedom, freedom from a deep hurt that had impacted my life at 12 years old (didn't I stop writing at 13?).

All this to say, I believe that writing is an integral part of who I am. I believe that God created me in such a way, that to stop writing is to stop my heart from pouring out and thriving. Does that even make sense?

I said that I knew myself through writing, let's talk about that a little more. I'm not sure what switch gets turned on in my brain when I begin to type, but I just get everything in my head out on paper. How do I explain this? For some reason, when I write I always push myself to go deeper. When I wrote my stories, how do I explain this? I got to know myself better than I ever had before. I don't know what it was, but when I wrote those fictional stories, I suddenly understood what I wanted out of life. I knew my hopes, I understood my dreams, I saw my desires, I recognized my fears and realized my doubts. It was like meeting myself for the first time, for the tenth time (does that make sense?). It's exhilarating now that I think about it, but I knew who I was. Who at twelve years old can say who they are?

Maybe I'm called to write and to use it to glorify God, maybe I'll just be a blogger with the random person in Germany that reads this besides my friends, but I can't stop writing.

But I did stop.

Did anyone else notice?

Jully 22nd. That was the last time I wrote anything for anyone besides school. Is it any wonder I've been spiritually asleep as well? More than anything, writing keeps me accountable to myself. When my heart is laid out, virtually bled out on paper, it's an insult to reject it and pretend I didn't mean it. I can't look at my past writings and say "Nevermind" to the promises I made, to the feelings I had.

Sometimes, I forget I'm real. I mean I just go through life and do what I'm supposed to do until I don't have to. But writing reminds me that I am real, that I'm a person and need to deal. With life. With me. I just need to deal and live. Thrive.

Now I'm rambling. Will anyone read the rest of my posts again after this one?

This is what I wanted to write:

I have to write.

When I write, I'm reminded to be present and to fight to live. Without it, I become complacent and forget that there's more to life than getting up in the morning and making it back to bed at night.

There's a God who loves me. His name is Yaweh, the only true living God.
He has a plan for my life.
He created me for my destiny.
He wants me to remember that I'm here.
To remember that I'm living.
To move forward.
To claim my freedom.
He wants me to remember the victory He won for me on the cross.
I'm not in this battle alone.
He loves me.
Oh how He loves me.

Yes, I need to write. If only to remember that He loves me. I need to write.

What did my Yaweh create you with?

He created the sun and the moon. He created the earth and the sky. The animals. The clouds. The stars. every atom, element, cell and breath in your lungs He created. He created it all with a purpose, and something to drive that purpose forward. If God did that with things, how much more did He create in you, His chosen one?

What is it He gave you to remember who you are and why you're here? Have you stopped like I did? You should start again, awkwardly break the ice again like I did with this post. I won't be surprised if God uses it to help you claim your freedom like He did with me.

Deep in the Heart of Texas

If the Lord asked me what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, I would answer with being a missionary. Ever since I was a little girl, my heart was always to go into the world and tell others about Jesus. At that time, I only wanted to because it sounded fun. Now, it's because of their need for Him and to hear the gospel. I particularly have a passion to go to the countries where it's dangerous to be a Christian, such as North Korea and Iran. God knows it, but He's also made it very clear that I'm not called to be a missionary. At least for now.

So why, when I want to go to places where I could be killed for my faith, did I go on a missions trip to Texas? In the Bible Belt?

It's more or less the question I've asked God many times over the last few years. When I went on my first missions trip, I wanted to go overseas to Africa or China. I remember specifically saying, "Not Dallas. ANYWHERE but Dallas." Where did I end up going? Dallas. The second the trip started, I knew it was the trip God wanted me to go on that summer. I remember the growth that happened in those two weeks, and how much I learned in just everything I experienced. My team was amazing, ministry was wonderful, and my faith was taken to a whole new level. It was the trip of a lifetime. The summer right after that, I decided I wanted to go on a missions trip to Israel. It was so much more than I could afford, but I decided to go in faith. As it turns out, the money just never came in and I didn't go on a trip that summer. The next two summers, I focused on getting to the Honor Academy. Then last summer, I tried going to Guatemala, then to a London trip. Neither one worked out.

"But You want someone to go," I reminded God. "I'm someone, someone that actually wants to go, why not send me?"

I heard nothing.

"Why, Lord?" I would ask. "Why is it when I try to go on a 'cool' trip, you just always say no?"

It was a hard question to wrestle with, one that often discouraged me. I hear all the statistics of the DESPERATE need for people to become missionaries, for more followers of God to GO and tell the world of His great love for them. I get frustrated because I want to be the one that goes, but it felt like God just kept on saying no.

Finally, when God did say yes to me going on a trip, it was back to the place I had lived in for a year. One the one hand, I didn't mind so much because for this particular trip, I was specifically working with an age group that I love, 11-13 year olds. Then on the other hand, I wondered why I couldn't go on another trip with this age group, why not Peru? I eventually started to see how God was miraculously providing for my trip, so I finally accepted that it was God's will for me to go and that going anywhere else just wasn't a part of His plan. So I went, not sure what to expect, except for God to show up.

This trip was incredibly challenging for me, but also the trip of a lifetime. I learned a lot about myself and was pushed outside of my comfort zone in so many ways. I had to perfect the art of acting like an idiot in order motivate my kids, I had to keep my energy up when I only had two hours of sleep, I had to inspire those who were under me when all I wanted to do was take a nap, and I had to teach them about Children's Ministry when I felt like I knew nothing about it myself. It was HARD and I was overwhelmed by the second day. It was at that point that I learned how to ask God for help and to let Him work through me, instead of trying to be an overall super-missionary by my own efforts.

It was also in Texas where I shared the Gospel with someone for the first time, was able to lead three people to Christ, as well as share my testimony in front of all the kids. I was so scared I would walk away from this trip without doing any of that, but God let me do all three! He gave me amazing opportunities to just love the children we ministered to, whether it was by playing games, letting them ride on my back, or explaining a verse to a child, God was moving in that place.

I fell in love with missions like never before.

I've heard the gospel probably a million different times in a million different ways, but everytime I know that it's being used to set someone free from sin. In Tyler, I saw that kind of freedom in more ways than one. It was the gospel that was taking a hold of these kids' hearts and bringing them to God for restoration, but it was also the gospel that filled us with love for these kids to tell them what it all meant. It was for the sake of the gospel that I raised over a thousand dollars, left home for what felt like the millionth time, would get up in the middle of the night to take one of my girls to the bathroom, and kept telling myself it was all worth it. It was because of the gospel that I would believe in my kids when they didn't believe in themselves, and would push them outside of their comfort zones by asking them to do the thing that scared them. It was for the gospel that I watched my kids accept challenges and let themselves be transformed. The gospel is what empowered us to be courageous.

If that's what the gospel does for believers, imagine what it does for those who don't even know who Jesus is.

If there's anything that stirs in your heart when you read this, don't ignore it. I'm telling you that you need to find out what God is asking you to do about it. Ask questions from every believer you know about missions. Ask your parents, ask your pastor, ask the guy at your church who was a missionary for 50 years, ask someone who makes a habit of sharing the gospel, ask your youth leader. You'll be surprised where your answers take you. Mine took me to Texas, three times and to a calling that I'm finally learning to love. This trip, more than anything helped me see in myself that I want the whole world to know how important missionary work really is, and I want to help them get to the mission field in anyway I can. I'm willing to bet that means staying at home, I'm willing to bet that's why God says no to me being a full-time missionary, and I'm willing to bet that's why the Lord has given me such a passion for missions.

"Lisette, with the heart you have, you could send out five missionaries to the field instead of being the one that goes."

I would've never found that out if I had ignored God's whisper when He said to go that first time 5 years ago, despite the fact that it wasn't a 'cool' trip.

I challenge you, to go deeper and say yes to whatever opportunity the Lord gives you to find out your role in the Great Commission. You have one, and you'll never regret putting everything you have into finding out what it is.