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.

Redefined: My First Step to Freedom

This topic of beauty is one that's been on my mind for a long time now. Night and day it consumed my mind so completely that I almost felt as if I was going crazy. What does it mean to be beautiful Lord?

Instead of answering me right away, He first showed me how beauty had become an idol in my life (read more about that here) and that's where  I got to my lowest point. This is a bit of the journal entry that I wrote a while ago when I realized how ugly I felt:

March 14, 2013
 

I still feel like the same person.

I feel like such a phony, a fake, a  FRAUD. The only thing that keeps me from doing what I used to do is the fact that I know what people would think of me if they found out. I want to be this perfect little Christian with a clean track record so that I can somehow be holier, and people will think I'm so much better than I actually am.

I do 'the right thing' out of pride.

It's why  I feel ugly to my very core, because I'm still a whore.

You can put lipstick on a pig, but it's still a pig.

Finally, one night as I was tossing and turning with this question in my head of what it means to be beautiful, another question popped in, why don't I think I'm beautiful?

Because I'm disgusting

What does God say about that?

"Therefore if any person is [ingrafted] in Christ (the Messiah) he is a new creation (a new creature altogether); the old [previous moral and spiritual condition] has passed away. Behold, the fresh and new has come!"  2 Corinthians 5:17 (Amplified)

That's when it hit me.

When I came before the Lord, I came to him in a wedding dress that was marked with mud and torn apart; I asked Him to please forgive me for these stains, I needed Him. He responded by giving me a new dress, one that was beautiful and the perfect fit for me.  I admired it so much, and was in disbelief that it was mine. All mine. When I looked in the mirror, with my new dress on, I saw beauty. It was marvelous.

But as time went on, and I began to look in the mirror and see my old dress. I'm not sure why, maybe I never thought it was truly mine. All I know is that I was scared that others would see that dress on me instead of the beautiful one that the Lord gave me. I frantically tried to scrub away the stains, sew up the tears, reshape and cut the dress so that it would look like the new one. It's what was expected of me.

Needless to say, I finally understood why I felt as ugly as I did.

For the years that I've been a Christian, I never once felt as if I had been washed of my sins. They clung to me like a spider web clings to your hair and you feel like the bugs crawled in to make their home there. I never felt easy, as if my sin followed me everywhere I went. Then the lie finally came out, and the Lord unveiled what it was that I've believed my entire life:

To be beautiful means to be perfect. Both on the outside, and on the inside.

And then, it all made sense.

All this time, I felt so ugly for who I was and the things that I've done. Once I became a Christian, I felt as though I had to leave my old life and do "the Christian thing". Go to church, stop swearing, stop with my suicidal thoughts, stop with the junk I was reading, watching and listening to, stop talking to certain people. Just STOP. I'm a Christian,  I can't do that. But it didn't change the fact that I still wanted to do those things.

When I finally let God in,  I was so scared at what He would say when He saw my old dress again. Would He be mad? Disgusted? Would He reject me?

No, none of those things. He only turned me around and said, "Look in my mirror."

When I did, I saw the beautiful dress that He had given me, white as ever with all the pearls and lace in the right places.

"I don't understand," I told Him. "Before-"

"You looked in your mirror, and you saw yourself through your eyes. When you look in my mirror, you see yourself through my eyes."

I knelt down on the floor and looked in His mirror again, seeing myself with beauty. Then I turned my head and looked in the other mirror, and saw myself with ugliness.

"Then who am I?" I asked, unsure. "Which one Lord?"

"How I see you is true, Lisette. Your old self is gone, what I'm looking at before me is all that there is."

That's all there is.

The world defines you by your actions and appearances, labelling you as "beautiful" or ugly". I'm not defined by the world anymore, but by what God thinks of me: His pure and spotless bride.

I've decided that my next step in freedom is to truly believe that I have been redefined, and to do that I'm going to renew my mind with the truth.

At every moment when I feel ugly because of my past, I'm going to memorize and repeat 2 Corinthians 5:17 to myself. At first, it'll feel like I'm just saying empty words to myself. Nothing will feel different, and I might even get tired of it. I have faith though, that the Word of God will bring me freedom because He promised it would. One day, I'll be able to repeat that verse to myself as a confirmation of what God has done in my life instead of striving to claim this truth as my own.

“If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:31-32

I believe in you Lord. I believe in you and the miracles you're going to perform in my heart and in my life. My time for restoration and renewal is here, and I trust you to carry me all the way to the end. Thank you.

Taking Back My Identity

I'm a pretty girl.

Yeah, I said it.

I have nice hair, big, dark eyes, nicely shaped eyebrows, full lips, freckles, a great smile, cute dimples, and a body shape that isn't fat or skinny, just a normal size. To top it all off, I don't wear make-up because I don't need it. I am pretty.

I'm not sure when I first realized I was pretty, it might have been when complete strangers starting saying it to me, or it might have been all the adults who have gone through my church that said it to me and my parents. It's strange, as a child I was bullied the most about the way that I looked, was called ugly on more than one occasion and used to believe it about myself, but now I can look in the mirror and honestly say that I'm pretty.

Process of freedom? Not quite. I learned how to be pretty by wearing different clothes, getting a new haircut and blow-drying instead of letting my hair air-dry. Basically, I made myself pretty, and that's the worse kind of pretty there is. You see, when you make yourself pretty, you start to believe you have to because you aren't pretty. In the last few years, the new trend is being beautiful  "on the inside" and you'll somehow become beautiful on the outside too. How do you think I took this message? By me having to make myself pretty, I felt as if there was nothing beautiful within me to radiate, to draw out and make apparent to others. I saw myself as ugly on the inside, but I could at least cover up the outside so that no one would ever notice.

The message of "beauty on the inside = beauty on the outside" is such a great one, but what about the girls that feel the same way I do? I, like so many other women, have made many mistakes and bad choices with men and bear the shame of it. Every time I meet someone new, I'm afraid of letting them see my past and the effect that it's had on my life to this very day.

I feel stupid

I feel weak

I feel pathetic

But most of all,

I feel ugly.

Stupid. When I think of my decisions that were ruled by my insecurities. Weak. When I think of the power I've given my emotions over my life. Pathetic. When I think of the fact that I'm still working through the shards of a heart that was broken nearly 7 years ago. Ugly. When I think of my heart and the filth that I dragged it through.

Satan has whispered this into my heart for most of my life, and it's something I believed all too quickly. I remember when I was little, probably in Grade 2, my family was on vacation at the beach and we were staying in a motel at the time. There was this one moment when I was sitting on the ground with my parents while my sisters were on the other side of the room. I'm not sure what we were talking about, but it was in that moment where I began sobbing and screaming "I'm ugly!".  There was another time in Grade 8 when I liked a boy in my class and I had one of my friends tell him. My friend came back to tell me that the boy was angry and said "That's disgusting".

Every time that someone has ever told me I was pretty, or that I was beautiful, those are the two moments that burst into my memory. "I'M UGLY" "THAT'S DISGUSTING" "I'M UGLY" "THAT'S DISGUSTING" "I'M UGLY" "THAT'S DISGUSTING"

I'm not blind, I know that I look pretty, but everything within me says that my exterior is as thin as an eggshell. If I let anyone see past that, if I let them see the real broken person that I am, then they'll all know that I really am just an ugly girl.

So what do I do?

Here's what I know:

God says I'm beautiful.

I think that's the best thing about God: He's always right. No matter if I'm convinced of something else, what He says is the truth. I could argue with Him for hours on end (which, I admit, I've done more than once) and make an argument that could convince the most stubborn of people, but I'll still be wrong. God wins, every time.

This post is a little different in that I'm not writing down a conclusion, but rather, a resolution. I resolve to be free of this lie that says I'm ugly. However, this isn't something that'll be over in just a long conversation with the Lord, this will be an ongoing battle, night and day, for me to uproot the lie and internalize the truth. This will be a journey, a long, hard, labourious journey, but I'm finally ready to embark on it.

The Lord has already given me my victory over this lie, now I'm moving forward so I can claim this victory.

The next few posts will be updates on this journey: what I learn and unlearn, the lies I discover and the truths that are revealed, and the few steps of freedom that I find myself walking into. Then finally, my declaration of ultimate  freedom.

The sun will rise and the Lord will bless me.

My name is Israel.

The Idol and My Sacrifice

I wrapped up my heart in my finest bandages, careful to cover every corner and loose end. I tucked it away in the box I had set aside for this day.

I hugged the box to my chest. "Don't worry," I whispered. "She promised us."

I covered my head and face as I headed out the door. Outside, the world was alive and bustling as everyone went about their day. I took a deep breath and ventured out. I weaved and bobbed my way through the crowded streets, every so often being asked to stop for whatever reason.  I won't stop, I thought to myself. This is too important, I have to keep going.

On and on I went, until I finally made it to the temple. I squeezed the box one last time, then went inside.

There she was, sitting on her throne in all her splendor.  Long, silky hair, a perfectly formed body, skin like marble, and a face with straight lines in all the right places. She was beautiful, and would make all of my dreams come true.

"Lisette," she said as I walked into the room.

"Yafah," I replied with a low bow to the ground.

"What can I do for you?"

"You know what I want."

"And you know the price."

I had to hold back a few tears as I presented the box to her. She took it from me, as if it were some common item rather than my heart. She opened up the box and looked on with a blank stare. As she took out my heart from the box, I felt a little tear in my being.

It's okay, I reminded myself. She promised.

"These are disgusting rags," she commented as she unwrapped the bandages. Then she cracked open my heart and looked inside. Her face changed, as if there were a foul smell in the air. "Oh my," she said. "What have you done?"

She looked through the items in my heart, clearly disgusted by what she saw. Finally, she placed my heart back in the box and laid it aside. She looked at me.

"What you gave me isn't enough for what you want."

My eyes widened. "But you promised."

"You didn't tell me you were a whore."

It felt as if I had been slapped in the face. "I don't know-"

"Don't look so surprised. I saw the things you did and the men you did them with. I saw your thoughts and your desires, and they're all disgusting. You're broken, and for that you're weak and pathetic. You want to be beautiful, but how could you think you could be with the filth you brought me?"

I fell to my knees and sobbed. I thought back to all the times I should have stopped myself and the times I should have said no. The weight of my shame bore down on me as if I were Atlas with the world on my shoulders. I had made mistakes, and I didn't do what I was supposed to do, but I didn't know I was so far gone that there couldn't be any hope for me.

"I thought you could fix it," I said in between hiccups. "I knew that it would be hard, but I figured that if anyone could do it, it was you."

She pulled me up by my hair. "Listen to me," she said, with her piercing eyes staring into mine. "You will never be beautiful, and ugly people don't make it out there. No one ever wants them, no one loves them, they just get rejected and tossed to the side of the road. Why do you think everyone loves me? Why do you think they worship me and bring me gifts? Because I'm beautiful. My beauty brings me love, your ugly can only bring you hate."

She let go of me and strode back to her throne. "There is, however, another option…"

I waited as she looked back at me and sat down. "You'll never be beautiful," she said. "But you can look it."

She motioned for me to come closer until I sat down and waited at her feet. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean, I can give you hair that is soft and voluminous, full lips and a perfectly formed face, your skin will be a shade as if it had been kissed by the sun. You will look beautiful on the outside, but my dear, you will never be beautiful because of what's on the inside. That's the best I can do."

"What's the cost?"

"Your identity," she answered. "No one can ever know who you truly are. They can admire the beautiful exterior that I give you, but because I can't change the ugliness of your heart, they can never see that part of you. Do you understand me, Lisette? You can never give anyone the chance to see you or love you, because they won't take that chance and they'll only hate you. This way, everyone will love and adore who they think you are."

I considered what she said for a moment. More than anything I had wanted to be beautiful, but Yafah had said it herself; there was no way, and this was the best alternative that I had. Is this truly what I wanted?

"If anyone saw my heart," I said. "And if they saw who I am, you're sure that they could never love me?"

"I'd bet my own beauty on it."

That was enough for me. "I'll do it. "

[Read on...]

I'm on the move again

I feel as if this post won't really fit into this mix that I'm creating with this blog, but it's something I wanted to share anyway.

To any of you who don't know me personally, I'm very passionate about missions. Even before I became a Christian, I always had a desire to travel the world and tell others about Jesus. When I attended my first Acquire the Fire in 2008, it was then that I heard about an opportunity for missionary work with Global Expeditions. Global Expeditions is the missionary branch of Teen Mania Ministries, an organization that is committed to provoke a young generation (teenagers like me in 2008!) to passionately pursue Jesus Christ, but their mission doesn't stop there. They not only want teens to be consumed with the love of God, but to take His life-giving message to the ends of the earth. In the last 25 years, Global Expeditions has taken over 67,000 missionaries to over 69 countries worldwide. After attending the Global Expeditions Breakout session, needless to say, I was amazed. I signed up right there and then to go on a trip that summer of 2009 to Dallas, Texas. To summarize that trip in this post would be too hard, because it was the trip that changed my life. When I came back home, my heart burned for me to go again. It didn't matter where, I just wanted to go.

Now, almost 4 years after that summer, I have the opportunity to go on another trip! I applied and was accepted to go to Tyler, Texas. I'm excited about this trip, because Global Expeditions is committed to equipping me to be effective in reaching out to others in the United States, while also challenging me to become more aware of the needs of others in my own community here in Canada. I can't think of a better way to spend my time than sharing the Gospel with others and allowing God to change my own heart and life in the process.

During this trip, I'll be working with a group of people to spread the Gospel in Tyler. This trip is special in that it's specifically for young people ages 11-13. I can't tell you how happy it makes me that kids that young want to go on a mission trip! I know what you're thinking, "You're not 11, 12 or 13 years old. Why are you going?" Well, I'm actually going to be serving as a Missionary Advisor. A Missionary Advisor (or MA for short) oversees a group of 4-6 students of the same gender, providing one-on-one interaction with the young people. Basically, I'll  be responsible for their development, and have the opportunity to serve along-side these girls while acting as their mentor throughout the trip. I'll be meeting with the other MAs in Garden Valley, Texas (about 30 minutes away from Tyler) on June, 13th. Then, two days later on the 15th, the students will be joining us and we will be trained on what we'll be doing in Tyler. During our trip, we'll be serving the people of Tyler through children's ministry and community events. We'll also be using "Personal Evangelism"  by having the opportunity to share our testimonies with the people we interact with.

The total cost of this trip will be approximately be $1000. This includes the cost of the trip itself, travel, health insurance, food and lodging. During the next several weeks, I'll be working very hard to raise the funds to go. I wanted to begin by asking you to be a part of this trip with me by helping with the finances. Any amount you can give will be greatly appreciated, and because Global Expeditions is registered for Non-Profit, your donations will be tax-deductible!

If you'd like to support me, there are a two ways you can donate:

1. Mailing a cheque Simply make the cheque out to Teen Mania and include a donation coupon (please ask me for this) and you can send it to

(If you're Canadian) Teen Mania Canada
Box 472
Bloomfield, ON
K0K 1G0

(If you're from anywhere else) Teen Mania
PO Box 2000
Garden Valley, Texas
75771

2. Online giving If you're Canadian, you can go to this link or if you're American, you can go to this link instead to donate with any major credit card and use my Missionary ID # 2549491

Your support is a key part of the incredible ministry I know will happen in Tyler! If you have any questions at all or want to receive updates on fundraisers and how finances are going, you can shoot me an e-mail at lsayesr@hotmail.com or you can call a Global Expeditions representative at 1 866 545 6239

My goal is to have $400 raised by April 1st, so thank you for your consideration. Your prayer and encouragement will also be cherished!

I know this was another long one, but I really appreciate you taking the time to read this. I'll be adding a page soon about my trip that will include updates.

Thanks for reading!

Refinement and a Broken Heart

It was about a month ago when I had a very honest conversation with the Lord, in which He asked me about my time at home. A simple inquiry, but it was one that I didn't want to know myself. I had come home in August from a 12-month Christian internship called The Honor Academy. During this internship, I was both challenged and stretched as a person, and had grown closer with the Lord than I ever had before. I could go on about that internship forever, but it's what happened when I came home that was what had a real impact on me.

Simply put, I walked away from God. I remember that at first, I was still trying to keep up my relationship with Him; I would read my Proverb of the day, I tried listening to sermons, I would set aside time to pray for people in my life, I even listened to some of my classes from the internship. God saw my desire to remain close to Him, so He started taking things out of my life that was creating distance between us. I didn't understand that though, I thought those were things that I was entitled to and just saw them disappear before my eyes without any good explanation. Instead of drawing closer to God, I went and chased after those things, harder and harder to the point of exhaustion. I was feeling this hurt from losing everything that I held closest to me, but kept denying it, pretending that I was "fine, just fine" and that I was still hard after God, also denying the resentment I was building towards Him.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, I started turning away from God. The hurt had grown to be too much; I couldn't ignore it anymore. Then there was a point where I realized the last thing (I thought) that I had been holding onto had been taken from me as well, and it was after that that I stopped talking to God completely.

It's hard to describe the time afterwards. I think the best I can give you is the lobster in boiling water. There's an analogy about how a toad will jump right out if you just drop it into hot water, but if the water is cold when you first put the toad in and slowly turn up the heat, the toad won't jump out, it'll stay in the water and eventually die. Why did I say the lobster? Because lobsters scream when they're placed in hot water, and I think my life at that point was a cross between these two situations: I had been lulled into deep sadness and all the while, was letting out a piercing scream. I was mourning for those things I had lost and felt as though my heart had been ripped out of me. I couldn't find comfort in anything.

Then that hard conversation came, in which Jesus asked me, "Where have you been?"

I resisted at first, as I always do, but I finally gave in an told Him everything.  Of course He knew it already, but for me to actually include Him in what was going on really made a difference. At the end of our conversation, I decided that I wanted change. I was tired of trying to live my life without the Lord when in all reality He was the one that I wanted more than anything.

Even in the time after that, things definitely got worse before they got better, but they did get better. I'm not sure how to describe it, but it wasn't until I really hit rock bottom that I found myself desperate for Jesus. Then, it was as if something had shifted within me. I felt lighter, my eyes looked up a few degrees higher and my smile wasn't just plastered to my face, it was growing from something that I was genuinely feeling. And there it was, I realized it, a heart being made new.

I once asked someone what it meant to be refined, and they shared with me a vision that they had on the word. She said that she had seen fire all around her, and that there was a Voice telling her to walk. As she walked, the flames licked at her skin and burned her, causing excruciating pain. It was too much, she wanted to give up. Suddenly, a face appeared at the end of the fire and she realized it was the face of Jesus. The Voice told her to walk, to focus on that face and keep walking.

Is it a hard process? Yes. Being broken of everything that interferes with your relationship with the Lord will be the hardest thing you will ever have to do. However, it comes with a promise. I envisioned that same scene for myself, felt the pain of the flames and wanted to run away from it all. Then I saw myself making it to the end of that fire and jumping into the arms of Jesus. His hands ran over my burns and restored me in a way that nothing else ever could. I laughed with Him, cried with Him and rested on His shoulder, knowing that it had been worth it.

The promise is this: no matter what, God will be there. He'll waiting to restore what was lost and ready to replace it with His own love and His own heart.

It's only after going through God's refining fire that you'll learn what it means to have JOY.