Unpack

Today I find myself sitting at my kitchen table in my new house. I have yet to unpack everything but it feels right to be back in Knoxville. I knew my heart was ready for a new season, but it's strange how sitting here in the place you call home feels when you've been traveling. I thought I'd take some time to unpack my thoughts.

When you travel so much, it feels a lot like all you're doing is packing up and saying goodbye. You learn to live out of your 70 L REI pack and your blue orange backpack. You shove pictures and letters from your tribe in your journal. Your most prized possession becomes your bible that's filled with dirt from so many different lands. 

But when you finally land somewhere for a while, you unpack the boxes. You hang the pictures up on the walls. and sometimes you spend the first week wishing you were still traveling. because leaving always seems to be easier than staying; putting boxes all neat into a storage closet is easier than cutting the tape and pulling your coffee mugs out. keeping yourself moving is easier than sitting down and saying what's on your mind because, just like the boxes, sometimes you have to rip the tape off to get inside.

Living with tape on is no way to live at all. Staying in your brain hinders your ability to connect with others and denies them the opportunity to listen. Leaving seems easier because it doesn't require you to give your heart to another long enough for them to hurt you. But even Jesus had his tribe of 12. and they hurt him (hello Judas handing him over, Peter denying him, and the 10 others leaving). They traveled together, they ate together, and they wept together. They unpacked their boxes with one another. 

All summer I said, "by you being vulnerable, you are freeing others up to do the same." By you opening and unpacking your boxes, you help others do it too. I am still learning this lesson every day as I choose whether or not to unpack my own box. but God is showing me that there is good news: I don't have to do it alone. He gives me courage to rip the tape off. He comforts me when it's painful. He helps me unpack. and then He shows me where to put it all.

What I've been learning this season is where to unpack my things. It would be silly for me to unpack my things at my friends house because that is not my home. I ask myself all the time, "But I travel so much...where is my home?" This summer, God showed me that my home is with Him. His home is safe, abundant, and sufficient. I can unpack all my boxes there. I can hang my pictures. and I can sit down and say what's on my mind. I can stay. 

There's a box in my heart that I haven't wanted to open for a few weeks now. I remember sitting around the breakfast table with staff when I got the text about a dear friend's death. I have felt the pain of the tape ripping off even when I tried not to. Today would've been his birthday and again I feel the tape rip. But today, I'm holding onto the truth that I am home and it's safe to unpack here in the arms of my Father. 

So I'll let the tape rip. I'll let Him comfort me when it's painful. We'll unpack it together. and then it won't just be a house. but it'll finally be a home.

E

Quiet Hours

Six month ago, I was in East Africa. I probably had not showered in a few days and I was running off chai, mandazi, & Jesus. The Invest House was always filled with noise: Tucker barking, Annie laughing, & fellow interns singing, shouting, joking, living. There was quiet during nap time but even then you could hear Irene calling from the kitchen for Ken or Annie. There was peace in every moment.

Today, I am in Knoxville. I'm sure I have showered in the last 24 hours. I am running off coffee, egg sandwiches, & praying knees. The Moose Loft has been quiet the past few days except for the occasional midnight rave happening in the apartment below ours. I am always praying for peace.

Life looks different, but you've heard that story a million times from me: from camp, to East Africa, to South Africa, Haiti, Murfreesboro, Knoxville. Life always looks different after you encounter Jesus. Bones and hearts ache after the journey, even if your travels are only those grueling 18 inches. Home is never quite what you expect it to be when you return. And so it has been for me the last 6 months. I have searched for the familiar & the comfortable and when I have found it in worldly things, I hear his Spirit whisper: this is not who you were meant to be. i have more than this for you. look and see me in this place.

Maybe it didn't hit me until I woke up at 3:30 am to a pain like the one I used to know as the aching of my growing legs. I stretched, I drank water, and I googled home-remedies, yet I was still restless. It occurred to me, then, the words I had written in my journal yesterday: Father, I want to rest from things that are taking up my time (like sleeping). and here He was, granting me just that. 

For a while, I tried to contact my friends in time zones that were awake, thinking that maybe there was something specific I needed to pray for, but the phone never rang. So I sat in my living room with the Christmas lights twinkling and the promise of dawn seeping through the windows contemplating if 5 am was too early to make breakfast. Not looking at anything but my own two feet, I just wanted to go back to bed. So I prayed for God to take the pain away, but that did not happen. 

I opened my bible and started to read Job. His wife asked him why, in the midst of great pain and suffering, he would not curse God and just die to escape, but he replied with, "you speak as a foolish woman would." and his friends came from far away, not to make him breakfast or pray for him or to comfort him, but to sit with Job in his suffering. "maybe," I thought, "this was Gods way of sitting with me." So I continued sifting through my bible.

I flipped back to Joshua to reread what I had written between the texts all summer and I stopped on the story of the Israelites coming to the edge of the Jordan. Joshua commands one man from each tribe to go into the river and get a stone so that their children would know the faithfulness of the Lord later on. Before stepping foot into the Promised Land, before they could go home, this new generation was circumcised. There was a cutting away that had to be done before entering this land.

For the 12 tribes of Israel, home looked different. "The Journey" was over but nothing would look the same again. There was pain and anguish upon returning but you have heard that story a thousand times. And for us, the 12 interns, life has not looked the same either (no matter how much we think it might). There has been a refinement that has occurred which leaves us feeling like we are walking in new territory. Throw out the familiar and the comfortable because we are just pitching tents until heaven.

 

Many of us voiced this summer our very real fears of forgetting what God did on Journey, myself included. So when my 6-month-letter-to-self arrived last week, the word that I wrote over and over again was remember. It was the stone that I had carried out of the Jordan to remind myself later on the faithfulness of God.

I have not written since the day I left for Journey 2016. I have wanted to, but could not seem to wrap my mind around picking up where I left off or trying to tell this story in a few thousand words. But when I woke up this morning at 3 am in pain and I sat with God in my living room, I knew it was time to write again. I knew that the only way that I could get some peace was to sit at my counter in the quiet hours and tell you that God is not changing.

He is not going anywhere.

and He is not waiting for you to get your act together before he starts to love you.

He is in the pain, in the cutting away, in the refinement process. but He is also in the joy of every day life. 

He is with you in every moment, every season, and every valley, mountain, or in between that you may find yourself in. And He is holding up the stone to remind you of His faithfulness until that day, when you walk into the Promised Land.

E

May the road rise to meet you

[Katie Keegan Photography]


As it is the eve of my departure for a summer over the pond, I have found myself unable to sleep. What better to do in those moments than write - it is after all when I find my mind most clear. My eyes, however, are another story because I cannot locate my glasses at the present time. So heed my warning & if there are spelling mistakes or grammatical errors please go easy on me.

This journey of fundraising, much like the last, has tried my patience & tested my trust. It has stretched me. I feel closer to the Father watching Him provide for me (in a different way than the last) now than when I first began.

But I'm here now. I'm in Atlanta. Im fully funded. I'm (somewhat) packed. I have enough snack food to last me, well, a whole summer. I am good to go. But my heart, it is anxious. My fickle self is reminded that putting our lives together neatly does not grant us peace. But the heart of the Father is to show us the way to His everlasting peace.

Could it be that peace isn't about having things all neatly put together? Don't get me wrong, I love having a clean room like anyone else because it seriously eases the anxiety. But there are some things that we cannot control in our lives and what do we do then? What I've been learning this past season is that we can control where our eyes are fixed. No doubt, there were days I fixed my eyes on school or fundraising or work. But even if I got a lot accomplished that day, the peace did not compare to that of a day where my eyes were fixed on Jesus.

The verse: I will lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? Surely, it comes from the Lord. has trailed me for years. In fact, the first time I think I came across it was at an overlook at a United Methodist Assembly in Beersheba TN. In front of me lay the most perfect mountain view I've ever seen and below me lay stone with the verse above etched in its face. It's nothing special - but to me it is a sacred place. Because I learned to set my eyes on my Maker and not on my own two feet. I would look down and see the verse and immediately be beckoned to look up once more.


In a moment such as this, where I confess that I am nervous to embark on this journey - I feel that same old beckoning feeling to lift my eyes. Sure, I could repack my bag for the 5th time (no seriously) - go over my packing list again - keep myself busy. but I would be denying the chance to sit and be with my Father, to process through the leaving with Him, to let Him prepare my heart for the months to come.

What a sweet thing we could miss out on if we were fixed on the thing in front of us in whatever form it takes: anxiety, pride, business, etc.

The word for this time with Abba? Abide
The Hebrew word is guwr & means to sojourn or dwell for an extended amount of time.

Everything may not be perfect. You may, like me, be unable to fit all your snacks in your backpack for the trip and your shoes may be untied every minute. But when you bend down to tie them, just remember to lift your eyes to the One who is your great help. Take a breath & walk into the next moment with the Holy Peace of Jesus.

May we fix our gaze on our Father who extends all comfort and peace. May we learn to let go of things not in our control. and May we guwr with God in the days to come.

may the road rise to meet you, and the wind be ever at your back
and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand

Journey well,
Em





**I won't be keeping up with everyone through this blog. BUT if you follow Choose to Invest on social media, you'll be able to see what I'm up to. And if you want to read blogs throughout the summer by the Journey 2016 team, they will be posted HERE

Will You Sit

It's funny how I see my grandfather everywhere I go. I wonder to myself if he would chuckle at that funny thing or if he would make the same face that I do when I don't know something. I think on what he would be doing right this minute and what we would do together if he were still here. Since he passed, I have become attuned to a new rhythm that demands leaving space for the broken, the grief, the sad, and makes way to the happy & the thankful. It is a heartbeat for the new season. A call on top of a mountain that begs for an echo. I've found my voice & it bellows over the rolling hills. Deep calling unto deep.

These moments of clear loss - where I feel my heart tugging like a dog on a leash. "Please don't go there. Take me this way instead. It hurts less," my heart whispers. It is sometimes difficult to let myself dwell there. To feel the pain as it is. But I know that it is leading me into healing. So for today, let's sit here and see what Jesus does.

Jesus, will you sit with us in the things that hurt. will you come like rain to wash it all away. would you bring joy in the midst of mourning. we know this isn't a quick fix with a bandaid, but a slow and steady healing. one that will make us whole. let us not grow weary & lose heart in the process. strengthen us & help us as we lean into you.

Do you ever feel like the hand you've been dealt isn't fair? You can't, for one second, understand why something happened or is happening. You may also know that it's "a part of life," but you still wish that it wasn't you who had to go through it? me too. I still have flashes to a hospital room & how each second felt like eternity. Even 5 months later, these are places in my heart that I do not want to venture to.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars; He gives to all of them their names. Great is our Lord, and abundant in power, His understanding is beyond measure. Psalm 147:3-5

If there's one thing that I feel more strongly about than how much this pain hurts, it is that God knows. Not only does He know, but He understands. Oh does he understand the ache of our hearts in these times. He sees those moments of clear loss. He knows the feeling of pain. and I know that He sits so close in those moments holding us like never before.

We have to open the doors to these places. We have to venture in. We have to sift through the stuff. I know it hurts but He's healing us. Each time that we go, Jesus meets us there. He has given each star a name. He has promised to heal our broken hearts. and He understands like no one else how unfair it all is.

The question now is this:

Will you sit with Him and let Him heal those broken pieces?

He's waiting to hold you, love. go on. let Him in.

Em

I Am Not

The past two weeks have really tried to get the best of me. They have won a few battles here and there, but they have not won the war. On one particular occasion last week, I thought I was done for. My students at work talked about how much they dislike me, I had failed an exam for a class I have already taken once, and was on the brink of a major anxiety attack with my next exam in less than 24 hours. At the time, my thoughts went from "I must be stupid to fail an exam twice" to "am I liked by anyone?" In my world, this was a day of catastrophic failure because I hadn't seemed to do anything right and yet I felt like God was asking more of me. How could He ask MORE when I couldn't even handle a little? I figured I just wasn't cut out for the ministry life. You know that verse about someone who is faithful with little will be given much (Luke 12:48 -thanks MC): yeah, I felt in that moment that I was at the bottom of the list for people who should be given much. 

But when I was thinking on books that I have read and want to read again, the book I Am Not but I Know I Am by Loui Giglio crossed my mind. and right there in the title it dawned on me. I AM NOT BUT I KNOW I AM. Let's back this train up for a second. Loui says in his book:

"Admitting we are not God - not in control, not running anything, not responsible for everyone's well-being, not the solution for everything and everyone, not at the center of all things - doesn't belitte us; it frees us."

I got so caught up in trying to do it all: college, sports, friends, community, serving, & trying to fulfill my own hearts desires on top of loving God with my whole being. When I failed at one thing and subsequently everything else began to fall off the shelf, I assumed the fetal position and accepted my place as a loser - a failure - a burden. 

When we believe those lies about us, the enemy comes in full force to destroy anything else he can because he has been given a wide open door into the vulnerable parts of our hearts. So how is it that we guard our hearts from the enemy without making it a lockbox that even Jesus can't get into? I think it's in reminding ourselves who we are and who we are not.

The truth of the matter is, we are not the center of the universe. We are not owed anything. We do not deserve anything. And the most freeing part of it all is that we do not have to be everything for everyone. we are not in control. and if you're anything like me, that scares you a little. but it does not lower our self-esteem, it gives us space to breathe. 

It's also true that we are important. We are beloved. We are chosen, fought for, known, and deeply & intimately seen by our creator. He breathed life into us. He chases after us. and we are His forever. 

Another truth is that God does ask more from those that He calls. Though God asks more of us, it is to bring us closer in dependence with Him. He knows that we are not enough - that's why Jesus came in the flesh. He doesn't need us to pick the world up and carry it all by ourselves. He just wants us to come and rest. He is asking for more of our heart. More of our trust. More of our plans. More of the control we think we have.

If we hold fast to the truth that He has written in scripture, than there can be no room for the enemy. No foothold, no nothing. He is rendered useless. All because we choose to believe what God says about us and refuse to buy in to the lies Satan tries to convince us of. 

Can guarding our hearts really be that simple? 

It can be if we allow it to permeate every aspect of our life. 

Would you live differently if you believed the truth of who you are and who you are not?

Em

Unbind Your Wild

When I walk outside, into the wilderness, there is a calm that lingers around me. It's my place to breathe deeply. It slows the millions of thoughts racing around my head. It clears the fog so I can think/see clearly. and it opens up a side of me that I long for each and every day that is not spent in these woods. My thoughts stretch, my imagination widens, and my heart expands in the wake of fresh air. In this wilderness, there are things I've learned to let go of, habits to pick up, and songs, which have been buried for ages, that I had forgotten were placed in me at my beginning. This place of freedom, however little I get to venture to it, helps me unbind the wild within me, the childlike heart I left behind.

and I need that wild-side this week. I need a new perspective. I need the calm and the clarity. and when I listened to everyone groan in agreement about this week, I realized that we all could use some wild freedom.

In a week filled with deadlines and exams and gravitational waves being discovered,  I feel like I'm being pulled in a thousand different directions. and it's easy for me to believe that everything is out of control. More often then not, I tend to put school work and relationships in priority over myself, which leaves me with messy hair and a room that LIGO could classify as a blackhole. and for an introvert like me, it gets overwhelming quickly. and it'd be easy for me to say that it's just this week, otherwise my life is totally balanced and everything is awesome (insert big red bow with a smile on top here).

but that's not real life.

Real life is busy. And there are a million and one choices you could make, should make, would make. Each choice puts you further down one road and farther from another. They can lead you to people, to yourself, to the world, or to Jesus. Sometimes it's impossible to tell which one will lead you where until you're halfway down the road. They can overtake your life. and it can start to feel like you can't breathe. Like your hands are tied. Like you just. can't. carry. anymore. Can I let you in on a little secret that my friend shared with me today?

It's okay to not carry it all. It's okay not to be everything for everyone. It's okay to take care of yourself. 

Life has a way of beating out of us the things that we were wired for. The things that bring us joy and rest. We begin to believe that we have to run this race as fast as we can for as long as we can with as much stuff in our hands as we can because that's what makes you successful. But that's not what God has required of us.

"...let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith...." Hebrews 12:1-2

It's not a dead sprint. and you were never meant to carry all that weight and sin. I've been carrying fear, shame, and people-pleasing in my buckets for too long [& picking up extra loads of those on weeks like this one]. and though they seem like old friends, I have to let them go.

It's time to unbind the wild within us. To let Jesus come alongside and take the things we're carrying around. to put ourselves at the top of our priority list. to be okay with not being okay. and to breathe deeply of the mountain air.

There is clarity in the unbinding. but more than anything: there is freedom.

So go ahead. I'm letting you off the hook today. Let Jesus take the weight and run free and wild like the child you used to be.

Em

Champion

Inspiration Station: Elation by Isbells

I want to talk about hope today. 

"and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us." Romans 5:5 NASB

Someone said to me recently, "Emily, I don't think your fear is that you're not enough before God. I think your fear might be of the power that is within you if you were to let Him have every single piece of you. You have the power to set others free." The truth hit me like cold water. 

I always thought I was afraid of failing - of falling short - of not being enough (yeah I still feel that sometimes). But I actually believe I am more afraid of who I could be if I surrender 100%. I convince myself that I would be too much for the world. But the truth is that the world needs us to be completely overtaken by the love of Jesus.

Marianne Williamson said it perfectly in her book A Return to Love

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

I don't know about you, but that is rocking me. Because there are so many times in the day that I say to myself, "No don't do that." - "It's not your place to say that." - "Be invisible." - "You don't know anything." and I sit in this false shame that I'm not enough or I compare myself to others. and I make myself believe that I'm afraid of not being enough. but it just ain't true guys! (sorry grandma for the grammar it's for emphasis)

Our self-shaming is crushing us. but more importantly, it's crushing our hope. We're not doing any good by making ourselves small, by talking ourselves down, or by giving in to insecurity. If we don't believe in ourselves, how are we supposed to believe that love can win out over evil? If we can't believe that God can change us, how in the world are we going to believe that He can change the world through us?

By letting God have His way in our lives, by being totally sold out, thats what shows off God's glory most. It reminds us of His promises that will not fail and once again we have hope for ourselves & for the world.

Champion others, absolutely. but champion yourself too. Be for you.

You're not too much. You're exactly what this world needs. You were born for this.

God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. As my friends at Refuge say: it's the HIMwithin.

So don't shut off the spigot of your heart to Jesus. Let Him have His way. Let Him be all He wants in you. It may feel bare and ridiculously vulnerable to be totally sold out but I have hope that the freedom is beyond compare. I have hope that we will become a generation completely overtaken by this love offered freely to us. That doesn't settle for the enemies games. That shouts of God's grace & love for His people. That believes in the HIMwithin to the point that it changes this world.

There's hope for more than depression. more than anxiety. more than eating disorders. more than alcoholism. more than fear and shame and bitterness and comparison. more than hopelessness.

Hold on to His promises. Champion yourself. Sell out every seat in your house for Jesus. and just watch what He does.

It's gonna be amazing.

Em