What lights the fire in your belly?

I had a wonderful conversation today with a wise woman. Not just wise, like lived longer than me wise, but deeply, deeply wise. Full of rich knowledge to unpack wise. Dreaming big but possible wise. Making sense of illogical human ways wise. Prophetic wise.

It was an unexpected conversation when I really didn't have time to stop and chat. But it got me thinking. Reevaluating. Dreaming. One of those I could sit here all day and never get bored listening to you conversations.

She told me of a nonprofit vision she's had for years. A dream that's been birthed, but stayed in its newborn stage until she felt moved, called to really give it her all and go for it.

Her vision was beautiful. Her eyes grew bright and her heart surfaces as she shared. Layer after layer, she deeply opened up to me. I could see the orange fire glowing within her. Burning bright. Consuming her whole being.

She was real. She was determined. She knew her power. Her strengths. Her skills. Her purpose. And she was waiting to use it all for the Kingdom. She was a warrior, armed and ready for battle. Waiting for her leader's call to charge full force for victory. Justice. Goodness.

I could write ten different blog posts on the various words of wisdom she shared with me. The various topics we covered and lessons we touched. But one stands out tonight as I replay our conversation in my head. As her bright eyes and burning fire for a cause boldly occupy my gaze.

"What lights a fire in your belly and what lights a fire in mine are totally different. And that's okay. That's how it should be."

Now, I've heard this before and I've said this before.  But somehow it sunk in a little deeper today. My brain wrapped its way around the concept a little closer to full circle.

We talked about competition in the world of nonprofits. How organizations and the people running them are way too concerned with being the ones to "fix" the problem that they pass up opportunities to collaborate and partner together. Ultimately causing less good. Instead of sharing wisdom they've gained with others, keeping it for themselves. As if saving the world is some competition for a trophy rather than a genuine effort to impact lives for the better. To advance the Kingdom.

And that's when she shared with me that she feels its her job to share wisdom from where she's been and what she's learned. Because that wisdom isn't hers. She doesn't own it. It doesn't belong to her. It was freely given to her by God. So how could she selfishly keep it to herself rather than share that richness with others. Its our job to share wisdom. because we did nothing to earn it. We aren't entitled to keep it.

And that's why I write, I realized. To share. I wouldn't necessarily call it wisdom. But lessons I've learned. Thoughts God has given me. Ways he's grown me. Things he's teaching me. Because it was all freely given to me and undeservingly so. And so I must pass it on freely, as well.

And so tonight I want to share the wisdom I gained from my conversation with this lady.

I know we're all wired differently. That different passions fuel us. Different stories move us. Different causes ignite us. I get that. I always have.


But I haven't been acting like all those causes are equal. I have been selfishly promoting my own. Considering it more important. More worthy. More needed in this world than others.

Because when I look at a child who has survived war and is now leading their community in peace, empowered to dream and live a full life again...the fire in my belly is lit. I stir. I'm moved. I'm motivated. I'm determined to do whatever in my power to do more.

Because when I see a child whose spirit is broken. Dreams destroyed. Innocence lost. Parents dead because they were forced to kill them. Sister raped. Future seemingly nonexistent. A child who is numb. Lost. Cold. Spiritually dead...

My heart breaks. It rips and tears and falls into a thousand pieces. My chest aches. The tears come. My world stops. And all I can think about is that their life was just beginning. They were just a kid. how could someone force them to do those horrific, gut-wrenching things? How could you destroy a child like that?

How do we piece them back together? How do we heal their deep wounds? So that they can have a future. Change the course of war. Come to life again.

I have a heart for children. Children who have survived trauma they didn't ask for, deserve, or even understand.

Right now, that's my heart beat. Could it change? Absolutely, if God wants it to. But right now, that's my cause. That's my fight. To help children of war find healing, peace, and empowerment.

But what lights a fire in my belly...isn't what lights a fire in yours And that's okay. That's how it should be.

Because the needs in this world are innumerable. The heartaches and despairs impossible to count. Problems infinite.

Children can't live without clean water. They can't become empowered adults without education. They can't stay in school without food to nourish and strengthen them with energy to learn. Their parents can't buy food without an income. But they need skills to find a job. And those skills need to be valued enough that they get paid fairly at those jobs.

And that's not even the half of it.

We need peacemakers to end war. We need good, honest politicians to enforce fair laws. We need doctors to physically heal people. Teachers to educate people. Counselors and social workers to empower people. Moms to raise people.

And what about all of the different problems our world is currently facing?
-sex trafficking
-war
-autism
-abuse
-homelessness
-poverty
-physical disabilities
-cancer
-crime
-addiction
-greed
-destruction of the environment
-global warming
-exploitation
-dictatorships
-sexism
-hate
-illiteracy
-unequal access to education
-rape

I could go on forever. The point is, our world is full of problems. If you think about it long enough, its quite depressing. But all of these problems need to be solved. Every single one of them.

And so we need dreamers, believers, and fighters for each of these causes. That's how change happens. Passion fuels action. But without that passion, without hearts being stirred and fires being lit...we don't get anywhere.

So who are we to champion our own cause as if its somehow more important than another's? And after all those causes belong to the world, to God, not to ourselves. They aren't ours. How can we rank the many different ways of bringing good to the world? We can't. It's utterly impossible.

Bettering a life is the most important thing we can do on this earth. And to that one life, it's the best thing that could have ever been done.

Making a difference is the most valuable use of our time. No matter what population we are making a difference within. No difference you make is better than the difference someone else makes. No matter where or when or how it is made.

It's about making the difference you are meant to make.

WHERE does your heart beat? WHAT lights the fire in your belly?

Go THERE. Work THERE. Do good THERE. Make a difference THERE.

Because you can sure as Hell bet that that is not the same heartbeat I have. And that its not what lights the fire in my belly. And so not only should you fight for that cause and dedicate yourself to that dream...but you have to. Because if you don't...I won't.

It's not my fire. It's not where my heart is. It's not my calling. And it's not my battle.

So while I'm fighting mine, you better put on your armor and prepare to charge full force into the front lines. If you look hard enough, you'll find an army to ride with you right by your side. You won't have to fight it alone.

But you better believe its on you to move. To accept that call. To respond to that very unique, very real fire burning in your belly.

Because what lights the fire in your belly isn't what lights the fire in mine.

The world needs YOU.

So, when you hear the word "charge" loud and clear from your commander...

Will you retreat?

Or will you rise to the challenge you've been given, let that fire consume every part of your being, and charge full force to champion your own, unique, undoubtedly important cause?

But really?

"But really?"

I find myself asking these two words all the time now. Its become my mantra. Often with sarcasm. Sometimes in fury. Always in disbelief.

In response to some pretty crazy things going on in my life. Things that are hard to wrap my brain around. Difficult to understand the reason behind. Impossible to see where they will take me.

The phrase often accompanies questions like:
-Why me?
-What on earth does that look like?
-You've got to be kidding me, right?
-And how exactly do you expect me to do that?
-Seriously?
-How could that possibly be a good idea?
-Mmkay...we'll see about that.

As if I have any say in the truth of these seemingly crazy things God is doing. As if I can ever know what the future holds. As if God were this evil little genius, sitting in his dark lab, plotting his vengeful plans to destroy me. You know, like some Dr. Evil character or something.

You'd think I'd have realized by now that God is good. That he has plans to prosper me and not to harm me. That his love for me means He has crazy beautiful plans for me, not crazy destructive plans for me. But no.

I doubt him.
Over and over.
Day after day.
Conversation after conversation.

I doubt his goodness and power. His truth and promises.

And I respond with..."but really?"

Believing in God is the easy part. Believing in all the remarkable things he is and the horrible things that he's not...well, that's the real tough one.

Because the world is so everything He's not. And so we come into this relationship aware that He is God, but with totally false expectations of what that means. Underestimating all that He is.

And how can we not? On this earth, its hard to trust. Relationships are broken. Promises don't last. Love is never unconditional. Fathers abandon their children. Destruction occurs in any and every form. All over the world. Every day.

Living in a place like that makes turning toward and believing in a God who looks totally different, a light in all that darkness...easy. It makes sense. Why wouldn't we want that goodness? That love? That peace? That healing? That redemption?

So while surrendering is tough (that's a whole different topic, though), saying yes to a God who is good in the middle of a pretty dark and destructive world can be a pretty easy choice.

Its the next part where I think many of us struggle.

How do you unlearn all the world has taught you? Because without doing so you can't possibly accept God's promises.

Think about it...

The world has told you you're unworthy of love. How do you believe that God loves you unconditionally?

The world has told you people say they love you, but then one day they bail. How do you believe that God will never abandon you?

The world has thrown you curve ball after curve ball. How do you believe God has good plans for you?

And the list goes on and on and on. And while on the one hand it is totally logical that a truly good God would be the opposite of a fallen world...I think as humans, so used to living in a broken world, we struggle to separate God, take Him for His word, and see Him faithfully as all that He is.

Doubt and questioning are healthy. God wants us to dig deep and discover him through our own unique journey. He likes that we ask tough questions. That we don't accept everything at face value.

But He also longs for us to accept His truth. And not just believe in Him, but in all that He is and promises to be.

I'm a little stuck in the "but really?" stage right now. Baffled. Confused. Frustrated. Curious. Mind-boggled.

Doubting God to be all that He is.

But He's not backing down. He's not waiting for me to wake up and believe Him. Nope. He's moving and working. Proving Himself to be true. A God so big that He has nothing to prove to anyone, is taking the time to prove Himself to me.

And when I respond to that proof in utter disbelief with one of those "but really?" comments...

He proves himself yet again.

I'm hopeful that I will grow more vulnerable and trusting of God. But so thankful that He's not making me get there on my own. But instead, walking with me every step of the way. Smiling and nodding when I say, "but really?" And just thinking of one more way to prove He is who He says He is.

He's totally accepting of me right where I'm at. Doubts, questions, but really's and all.

Filling empty spaces

Fixing up my new one bedroom apartment was a huge ordeal for an OCD, organization loving planner like myself. Shopping for furniture was a process. Every piece had to fit perfectly. With my vision for that room, the other pieces I had already bought, and the look and feel I was going for. I thought and looked and measured and pictured. It had to be perfect.

During this process, I found myself obsessing more specifically over three rooms: the kitchen, living room, and balcony. They were somehow more important than my bedroom and bathroom. In picking things out, I was more selective. Less willing to jump in and buy something without certainty. More concerned about the vibe each item would give off.

I know, this sounds utterly ridiculous. As if my decorating dilemmas have any real significance. But stick with me for a minute...

For the kitchen...I took special time to make certain my dishes were the right color and sizes. Deliberated long and hard over how many sets of utensils to buy. Searched and searched for just the right bar stools. I just needed more seating. Even though I am only one person.

For the living room...I found the perfect couch right away. Vibrant red. Soft fabric. Small enough to not overpower the small room, but definitely big and cozy enough to sleep on. That one was important. Even though I would have my own bed in the next room. Then I needed just the right lamps, because there was no overhead lighting. And end tables. More than one. People would need places to set their drinks, obviously. And the vibe. That was a big one. What ambiance would it give? What feel was I going for? Rustic. Earthy. Cozy. Real. Reds and browns. Homey when you get right down to it. I was going for homey.

And for the balcony...We must have looked at patio furniture at a dozen places. Nothing was right. Nothing said you can do life here. You'll feel at peace sitting on this chair. serene while sipping your coffee at this bistro table. I needed that perfect set of two chairs and a table. For me and...? Who knows, but I had to have two. And when I found the perfect brown wicker table and chairs with bright yellow cushions, I knew. That balcony would be a sunny paradise. A perfect escape. For two.

So what is the point of all this decorating talk? I'm getting there, I promise!

Last night, I had four friends over for one of their birthdays. I made dinner, and we all sat in the living room laughing as we shared a meal together. I kept asking people if they needed anything, acting very hostess-like. I remember saying out loud, "Dear Lord, I am turning into my mother!"

I was. I bought way too much food. Offered to fill everybody's drinks. Filled my plate last. Kept bringing out more food. Insisting that people eat more. I was my mother to a T. And while my mother is the most spectacular woman on the planet, and on most counts I hope and pray to be more like her...I always swore I would never be like her in this respect.

I remember saying to her...sit down, Mom. Stop asking us what we need. Serve yourself. Eat already. Sit, we're fine! Please, I cannot eat another bite. Holidays. Dinners with friends. Birthday parties. She was always the perfect hostess. A total servant, taking care of everyone else. And while I knew that she loved it, I didn't get it. I was even annoyed by it. I just wanted her to be a little more selfish. Take care of herself.

I decided this went along with being a stay at home mom. While it's a beautiful, undoubtedly hard and hugely important job...that just wasn't me. And I wasn't gonna do it. I'm not wired that way, I've always told myself. I couldn't not have my own life.

I lumped this perfect hostess thing into the same "that's honorable but never gonna be me" category. Right next to getting married young, having kids, and being a stay at home mom. Not me. Not gonna happen. That was that.

Last night I was standing in the kitchen washing dishes. I could see my friends through the bar opening sitting in the living room chatting and laughing away. They were having a great time. Doing community. And I was so content washing dishes rather than joining them. I was filled with joy while I watched them smile, knowing they were enjoying it. I've never been more happy doing dishes. And I had more fun watching them share stories and crack jokes than I would have sitting on the floor by their side.

That's when I realized it was okay to be like my mom in this respect. I finally got it. All those times she cleared our plates and washed dishes while making coffee to go with dessert instead of joining in the conversation. She didn't need to. She was filled with more joy taking care of people. She was serving her community through simply being a good hostess.

And then it hit me...the reason I obsessed so much over these empty spaces and what would fill them. It wasn't just perfectionism. It was because I wanted to invite community into my home. I wanted this to be a place that opened its doors to friends and strangers. A place that stimulated deep conversation. Welcomed laughter. Invited community.

That's why I needed more chairs and tables. So more people could fill this space comfortably. I needed the cozy couch so friends could sleep here when lonely or temporarily homeless or just stopping into town for a night. I needed all the perfect dishes to have family dinners. With whoever whenever. And I needed the perfect balcony furniture so the space would say, hey friend, you can rest here. You can find peace and refreshment here on this balcony. Right by my side. In silence or in deep conversation. The whole place needed to say, we can go there in this space. We can ask tough questions. Share dark pasts. Confide in each other. Dream for the world.


It wasn't about the furniture that would fill these empty spaces, but the community that would. It was about creating a space that welcomes community. In whatever form it would come.

You might walk into this apartment and just see furniture. But I see a space that says you're welcome here. You can find community here. And through that, I pray that Jesus shows up and rocks your world. Meets you intimately right where you're at. Right where and when and how you need it. Using community to speak to you and grow you into all He designed you to be.

As for me, I'm learning that I don't always know how I'm wired. What I want. What I will or won't end up doing or being someday. I've learned that God can rewire me. Change what I desire. And bring me to a place and grow me into a person I never dreamed I'd be.

And I can't help but wonder what in the "that's honorable but never gonna be me" category God will choose to rewire and prepare me for next.

Am I Ready?

Almost 9 months ago, I decided I was going to graduate from college a year early to move to Nashville and work for Exile International full time. I had a summer internship with the organization in Nashville that rocked my world and pretty much turned my life inside out.

I fell in love with the work and the city. And even more importantly with the beautiful people who had become my family. I never felt so whole. So perfectly placed. So at home. And so at one with both myself and my purpose than I did that summer in Nashville. And so I knew I couldn't leave for good. I knew I couldn't wait another two years to come back and start a life here. So I did what needed to be done to finish school a  year early.

This past year was a year of waiting for me. I loved every bit of my life at Clark University. And I had the most amazing community there, who I will continue to love and be a part of from Nashville. But I knew God was pulling me to Nashville. And to working for Exile. And so that year was a year of waiting and anticipating. Of dreaming about the exciting future ahead. Of growing anxious and ready for the next chapter. The decision was made. Only time was left for me to battle.

I made memories and embraced the present as much as I possibly could. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with my amazing friends. Cherished the end of my Clark University experience.

But ultimately, I was waiting to be where I longed, needed, and knew I was meant to be.

It felt like July would never get here. Like my new life would never start. Like the anticipated next chapter was ages away.

Until yesterday morning. When my mom said goodbye, drove off to head back to Dallas, and left me alone in my new one bedroom apartment for the first time.

I had already been in Nashville for 5 full days. But my mom came with me and had been right by my side helping me unpack, shop for furniture, decorate, and get settled. So while I was excited to be here and thrilled to fix up my new home...it didn't hit me until that moment that that year of waiting was over. That I live on my own in Nashville now. That this new journey has officially begun. That I am finally where I've been waiting to be, starting the adventure that is the rest of my life.

After saying goodbye, I walked up the stairs and into my apartment alone for the first time. Tears streaming down my cheeks and eyes red and puffy. I was overwhelmed with emotion.

Sad to say goodbye to my mom. Who is my best friend and biggest support system.

And suddenly...an emotion I don't feel often...terrified.

I couldn't help but think, "Am I ready for this? Am I prepared? Do I know everything I need to know? Have everything I need to have? Am I ready to be on my own? To face the real world without the many safety nets I've always had? Can I do this? Am I ready?"

I've been away from home for 3 years now for college. But I've never lived alone. And I've always had it easy. My parents paid my tuition, room and board, and gave me money every month to liveon. I grew up having more than what I needed. Never having to worry about finances. I've never been truly independent. And I've certainly never lived paycheck to paycheck.

I don't get scared a lot. I freak out about finishing things on my to do list or organizing to a T, but I generally embrace challenge and thrive in new environments.

But as I stood there staring at my new perfectly furnished, cleaned, and decorated one bedroom apartment, I was scared. I questioned my ability to succeed in this new life of mine. To make it on my own. To conquer the real world so to speak.

But the truth is we're never really ready. We can't be. We always have more to learn and more mistakes to make in order to learn it. We never know what obstacles the world will throw in our way. Challenges will always come. Whether we're prepared to handle them or not. There will be good days and bad days. Ones where we feel strong and accomplished. And ones where we feel defeated and discouraged.

That's just reality. And no matter how OCD we are or how obsessed with planning we can be, it will never change. We're never ready for that next big season in life. It's full of unknown territory, and that's the truth no matter what season it is. Heading to college. Starting your first real job. Moving out on your own. Getting married. Moving across the country. Across the world. Having gets. Changing jobs. Retiring.

Ask anyone starting any of these new seasons in life, and they'll tell you they're not ready. Not prepared. Not confident in how it will turn out. Totally unsure what it will look like. It's all the same. The next chapter. The one you long for and anticipate. It's going to be scary, because it's full of questions and possibilities. And if you're a planner, that's something incredibly hard to wrestle with.

But being ready isn't what matters.

Following your hear tto the next chapter you feel called to does.

Jumping in with faith in yourself does.

Acknowledging and accepting your fears does.

Not letting them stop you from taking risks and opportunities does.

Am I scared? Yeah, I am. Do I know exactly how this chapter is gonna play out? Nope, not even a bit. But I'm thrilled that I've just turned that page. Confident that I will be okay. Open to the endless possibilities that await me. Ready to mess up often. Excited to learn from those mistakes. And hopeful that I will grow a little bit more into the woman God created me to be. And that I will find myself a little bit closer to realizing my life's calling.

The question is not, "Am I ready?"

It's "Will I embrace this moment of change completely unaware of all it will bring?"

I have only one answer:

Bring. It. On. World.