Faith: Moving From Hard To Easy
Recently I was at a meeting and like with most of my meetings lately, Storyteller Cafe came up as a topic. I was not the only person present from Stories Foundation at this meeting and yet when one of the people I was meeting with addressed the cafe, it was in reference to it being my dream.
This is true, in part. I have been dreaming about Storyteller Cafe for over 9 years. I can see it in my minds eye like it already exists.
Yet, I left that meeting and said out loud something I have been thinking and speaking a lot lately. I am not doing anti trafficking work or pursuing the build of a giveback cafe for my own health. I am not doing this because this cafe is some big dream I have to realize for myself. Quite the contrary.
The Lord Will Fight For You.
A couple nights ago a friend posted Exodus 14:14 “ The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” I shared it on my Facebook profile and went to bed trying to remember when God had said that and to whom. When I woke up the next morning, I looked it up.
The Israelites had just left Egypt and were in the wilderness heading towards the Red Sea. At the beginning of chapter 14 God tells Moses what is going to happen. Pharaoh’s heart is going to turn hard again, and God is the one who turns it, Pharaoh is going to see the Israelites are wandering in the wilderness and choose to pursue them to bring them back to be slaves. God tells Moses, I am in control of this, I am going to show my glory.
Big things, Small things or heart things?
Sunday night I was at a leadership event put on by local pastors. The intention behind the event was to pour back into leaders in their community who pour out. Chris and I got a a personal invitation, they fed us dinner and flew in a leadership coach who spoke. There were even gourmet cupcakes, all for free. I texted the pastors after I left and thanked them for pastoring, in my experience this kind of leadership is few and far between.
Failure, A Mustard seed & Landfill
I left the house early this morning because we were out of coffee and we don’t do a morning without coffee around here. After driving through at Caribou, I found my way to the land we hope to buy for Storyteller Cafe. As I was coming up on the corner I have pictured our cafe on thousands of times I thought ,
“what if my girls remember me as a failure because I spent my whole life fighting for something that never materialized?”
If you feel this is a dramatic thought, it is.
It all comes back to Identity.
When I was a young adult I volunteered in AWANA at the church I grew up at. The group I was placed with were the 3rd-6th graders and I loved them. I can still picture those girls’ faces. One of the things I had the privilege of doing was helping to lead the singing. Now, I am not a singer as in I don’t sing well. Every time I get up on stage to speak I fear someone will turn my headset microphone on while I’m singing and my voice, passionate it may be harmonized it is not, will be loud like the worship teams. Although not a singer, I do love to sing and I love, love to worship. Maybe more than I like to do anything else.
Approval.
I was putting my mascara on, the last step before I was “leave the house” ready. As I coated my genetically light lashes, I thought of later in the evening when I would wipe off everything I had just put on. Then my mind went to the day ahead of me, realizing I maybe wasn’t even going to see people who would notice me that day. Then, I wondered why I was going through the trouble. With the last confident swipe and intentional look in the mirror, I thought, no, today I am putting mascara on for me. Today I wanted to get ready. I got dressed, not for the people I would or would not see, but for me. I chose clothes that reflect me. I didn’t change my necklace to one that might match more; instead I kept the one on that reminds me of my GG; it’s cobalt blue pattern one she would approve of.
How do I treat myself?
Lately the saying “treat others how you want to be treated” is ringing differently in my ears. I was with a friend who was treated in a way no one would want to be treated. In thinking about her situation, I asked myself this question: Is our default to treat people not how we want to be treated, but how we treat ourselves? Stay with me.
It’s Hard.
This past week was Halloween.
Before I go any further, I have to let it be known that I hate Holloween and say so at least once a day from October 1st to October 31st. If you are a person who likes Halloween, the decorations and all that, my hatred for Halloween isn’t personal against you nor is it meant to shame you. The truth is, I love autumn. Fall is my favorite season, hands down. When the leaves begin to turn, the air smells like bonfires and there is finally a relief from an often grueling, humid, August. When this happens, I breath a little easier. Beauty attracts me and I have a special affection for the beauty of my Minnesotan home in the fall.
The Value of Authentic Community
I have been trying to write this blog post about community for months. I have sat down to write multiple drafts, every time starting over because the words weren’t exactly right to convey what I have been learning and seeing when it comes to the importance of community.
Different Kind of Provision
All summer I have watched the drought here in Minnesota echo my own drought. I have watched myself wake up day in and day out praying and preparing for provision much like we watch the weather app on our phones hoping the forecast predicting rain will come to pass. I have had meetings, gone to events, and had phone conversations in which, as faithfully as I know how, I have communicated the vision and the need. The urgency and the impact. Every time could have been the time where provision rained down, but like the weather the forecasted rain clouds turned into sunshine and where sunshine is good for the soul, when you need rain the heat can make you tired.
Just a Little
I am definitely a “go big or go home” kind a person. I have a tendency to want to do it up or not do it at all, especially when it comes to impact. I don’t think I am alone in this, in Western culture especially, we want to see tangible results and those are often shown by big numbers.
But what if our impact isn’t measured by big graphs and large numbers? What if the importance of something given isn’t actually revealed in how much was spent or how many were there to receive it?
Moved Forward, an Invitation.
In the past 12 months at Stories Foundation we have been moving forward, or maybe even moved forward. The right people with the right skill sets have come into our lives, budgets have been set, projections tweaked, relationships formed, blueprints worked on, plans for PR are in the works. Everything is set. The only way I can describe it is we are in a current of God’s plan riding his vision towards Storyteller Cafe in Ramsey, MN.
Living in the Tension.
Last week we said goodbye to our home. Like with everything in life, moving brought together the tension of grieving over what is lost and excited anticipation over what is to come. I am usually pretty good at change because I love the promise of the future, yet the past 10 years have taught me about the importance of allowing for grief for what was to live alongside joy for what is to come. Life is never one or the other, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, the happy and sad live together. Side by side, in every life situation.
The Women of Christmas/Anna
I hate to wait.
There I said it.
Once I have decided on something, after thinking and researching I have made up my mind this next thing is a good idea for my life, I want it immediately. This applies to things I want to purchase, things I want to do, ideas I want to make reality. If you want to talk me out of something, do it before I have made up my mind. I have a pretty long ideation process where I consider all angles of something, this is the time for me to opt out of an idea or desire. Once my will is set, it is hard to back away.
Women of Christmas/Mary
I read the first chapter of Luke a few weeks ago and ever since I have had Luke 1:45 on repeat in my mind and heart.
“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill what he has spoken to her. “
This beautiful verse I have glossed over many times was spoken by Elizabeth when Mary came to visit her. Mary was Elizabeth’s relative, most likely the relationship was Elizabeth was an Aunt to Mary, and when Mary came the baby inside of Elizabeth (John the Baptist) leapt. I can imagine Elizabeth, having heard the news of Mary’s miraculous pregnancy, while living her own miracle with the baby growing inside of her, putting together all the pieces of the larger puzzle that was her life story.
Women of Christmas/Elizabeth
I looked back the other day to see if I picked a word for 2020. It says a lot about this year that I don’t even remember if I picked a word let alone what it was. Scrolling back through my Instagram I found a post from the beginning of the year mentioning surrender. Then over and over again, my posts kept bringing up that word; surrender, surrender, surrender. Unintentionally surrender has been my word for 2020.
Surrendered Rest.
Awhile back, I got in the car early and took off with a friend. We drove through Minnesota, Wisconsin and Illinois, our final destination being Indiana, with no agenda except to surprise the person we were going to visit. The sole purpose of this trip was rest; good food, good conversation, and going wherever the minivan takes us.
Journeying Towards a Giveback Cafe
Friday I drove out to the land where Storyteller Cafe will be built.
If you have followed me for any length of time you may know how much that statement means. If you are new here, we have been praying for, talking about, working towards a giveback cafe whose purpose will be to fight human trafficking, for the past 8 years. I have been talking so confidently about this Cafe for so long this past summer as I was finally watching it unfold before my eyes I began to wonder if I had lost people in the waiting. Supporters at the beginning have tapered off, people who were excited in the middle and maybe watched us stumble have disappeared. I have even considered at times if I had heard wrong from God on this one, been too rash, moved too quickly. Yet again, over and over he has confirmed his plan. He has continued to move us forward, even if only an inch at a time.
Deleted from Facebook.
A few days ago I was going about my business. I turned in my ballot and did my civic duty of voting and shortly after I was in the car with my parents on the way to look at some houses as we are trying to move (momentous things often happen to me when I am in the car with my parents, example: Stories Foundation) when I went to check my Facebook like any addicted-to-my-phone millennial.