In staff meeting last Sunday we all gathered together in the CUR. Donald had grouped chairs together and the room was lit only by a few candles that were glowing in the circle.  In the center of the circle were three bowls of water with towels and soap.

My first reaction was an ‘oh no, not feet washing’ accompanied by a few inward (or not so politely kept to myself) groanings. I did not want to participate because I felt so unhappy in our community. I’ve been so overwhelmed lately with crowds and constant noise. Although these are not entirely fair assessments of our community, these were my feelings just the same.

Well, it was foot washing time. I think when people wash one another’s feet it has great value. Yet it makes me extraordinarily uncomfortable. Feet are parts of our body that we want no one to touch and look at too closely. For being somewhere relatively open, they’re incredibly private places that are ridiculously sensitive.

Something happened on Sunday between our staff family. I watched my good friends get down on the floor and tenderly and lovingly touch one another’s feet. I saw startling vulnerability as my family allowed others to touch and love and pray over their shame (in the form of feet). It was a type of intimacy so raw, so vulnerable, and so beautiful that it hurt to look at it for too long. My heart was aching as Leah washed my feet. My heart was aching as I washed Mary’s feet.

I was so moved by these intense moments of intimacy that I could not even pray with words, but only with my heart and my tears. And I was reminded about how valuable each of my brothers and sisters are to me and to my Father.

This is a true community. This is the season for intimacy and vulnerability.

I want to be a little vulnerable in this place. Somewhere I lost how to be raw in front of a lot of people and that’s not a good thing. I remember something that Derek Webb said about transparency. He said that the best thing in the world for him would be if all of his sins were on the 6 o’clock news for everyone to see. That thought scares the hell out of me. Seriously, think about your most shameful thoughts and actions right out there for everyone. Pretty terrifying if you ask me. And yet that’s what we are called to- darkness-fleeing, lies-shattering, truth-revealing vulnerability. Staggering rawness.

Something I’ve been struggling with is planning my wedding. I hate wedding planning. I LOATHE wedding planning. I cannot bring myself to put all of my heart in it. Now don’t go all Freudian on me. This does not mean that on some deep subconscious level I do not want to marry Dane. I want to marry him with all my heart. It’s just sometimes I wish we were eloping.

Anyway, I was praying yesterday about having more of a heart for wedding planning and the Lord reminded me of something that happened a couple of years ago. I was in Dane’s sister Kailee’s wedding a couple of years ago and so I went bridesmaid dress shopping with Lauren and Mandy. Mandy had decided to try on a bridal gown while we were looking and I remember watching her get into the wedding dress (no mean feat, let me tell you) and how much effort it took and how lovely she looked. And I remember thinking, I cannot wait for that season when I could put that much effort into self-preparation because I’ll learn so much about being the Bride to the Bridegroom. I walked away from that shop longing for that season when the Lord could teach me so much about preparing myself for Him and my husband. And how I would learn to let someone love me with their whole heart and know that it was with the Lord’s love. How sweet that season seemed like it would be!

And when the Lord reminded me of all this, I remembered once again that all of this planning is not what my wedding is about. My wedding will be a beautiful and perfect celebration, a pale shadow of our future Jubilee with the Bridegroom. And my marriage, my becoming one with Dane, will be another wonderful, pale shadow of the Bride and the Groom.

I cannot wait. Remind me when I’m freaking out about petit fours.

I am grateful for so many things.

Thank You, God, for placing me in a community where I am loved. Thank You for ensuring that there were people to celebrate my birthday with me.

Thank You for Dane’s heart and his sacrificial spirit that he refuses to acknowledge. Thank You for bringing him into my life and for loving me through him. Thank You for the honor it will be to marry him.

Thank You for Godfather nights. Thank You for my family group. Thank You for giving me the great privilege to take care of Your Beloved.

Thank You for shedding light on dark places. Thank You for intensity and vulnerability and those that are brave enough to be real and raw.

Thank You for how good and beautiful You are in every way. Thank You that You are the Designer behind all of creation. Thank You that all the things that move me are from Your very heart. Thank You that nothing is without meaning.

Thank You for friendships that endure. Thank You for clear nights in Tallahassee when the orange smog lifts for just a few hours. Thank You for having me major in English and letting me read all the time.

Thank You for breaking my heart of stone and giving me a heart that feels, even when it hurts. Thank You for dwelling in the dark with me and quieting my anguish and bringing peace to my fears. Thank You for loving me enough to lead me into a still place with no shadows, only a radiant luster.

You alone are good.

My parents laugh at me because of my frequent use of the word brokenness. It’s true, I do  use that word a lot. I even had a chance to speak about it to all of the Family Groups one night. I spoke about brokenness and healing. It’s easy to get caught up in the hurt and sorrow of your wounds, to only focus on the pain. But it is essential and healthy to think about where you’ve received healing, who has been a tool in your healing and where you hope to receive healing from a tender Jesus whose very garment is an inducement to touch and receive.

I feel like God has asked something very special of me in the past month. I haven’t shared this with anyone, but have hoarded it like a treasure that God has given me, a divine secret for only him and I. But I will share what is of great value to me here: I feel like God has asked me to be brokenness. Over the summer I wrote on my Facebook wall (cheesy, I know) that I wanted my heart to be as big and tender as God’s, no matter how much it might hurt. And then I wrote, “Remind me that I said that when it hurts.” Well, it does hurt and I do need reminding because I have responded to God’s invitation with a glorious yes, not quite understanding what God has asked of me. I think part of what he has asked me is to weep when I hear about someone that hurts, that my tears would be a precious, empathizing prayer on behalf of the broken.

To my Jesus that was brokenness and compassion itself, I will join you in your brokenness for this beautiful, hurting world. And I hope I come out of this wonderful, painful season with a heart that more tenderly reflects you.

Coming back from the Social Justice Conference in Texas, I’ve had a really difficult time trying to figure out issues that we don’t like to talk about, issues like the war, homosexuality and poverty.

I’ve decided that in regards to these issues I can only pursue the truth of the Father’s heart recognizing that I might figure some things out, that I might think I figure some things out and that I might not figure some things out. Yet, I will pursue your heart, God.

Today I am broken. I am broken because I am a sinner. My humanity rages within me and threatens to overtake whatever divinity I may have or that God instilled in me. I pray that God will take my sin, my brokenness, my ugliness, my pride and jealousies, my imperfections and inconsistencies, my hatred and my apathy. Lord Jesus, take me anyway.

Part of my redemption is that in spite of, or perhaps because of these things, God has invited me into this scandalous ministry or love. He has chosen me, he uses me. God, I thank you. I love you. I love you because you don’t make any sense. I love you because you heal. I love you because you invited women to be the first to see you after you rose from darkness. Jesus, I love you because you love. How many things we’ve got wrong! How many things I’ve got wrong. And yet, here you are, loving me. Loving us.

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving those who desperately need love. You are good.

Vance preached a wonderful sermon about community on Sunday and it really hit home with some things. I’ve had friends that have withdrawn from our community and it hurts when that happens. Sometimes even I withdraw from our community in small ways. ‘How is that possible?’ you might be wondering, as I’ve lived on Wesley property for over three years. Somewhere, however, I began to share less of myself in small group settings and instead let others be the most vulnerable. I’ve never been willing to let my guard down and cry about something I’m struggling with in my life. I also tend to isolate myself when I’m going through a difficult spot (like the last few days) and I just stay in my room reading.

I cannot begin to emphasize how essential community is in this life. Friendships, mentoring relationships, relationships with family and others are how we most know God’s heart. I value this place and this season for all that it is for us. If you’re lonely, please come talk to me or any of the interns. Just hang out with us on the stage.

Let my deep cry to your deep and your deep to mine. Believe what God says about me when I cannot, and I will believe for you when you don’t have the strength to believe it for yourself.

“You’re a word from heaven…Did you know, you’re a child of God? Do you know you’re a word from heaven? Do you know you’re a child of God? Do you really know?” Jason Upton, Sons and Daughters

I’ve been thinking a lot about what I should do this next year. I know that I don’t have to make any decisions about the future today, but I should at least be thinking, exploring and praying about my different options.

Dane and I are of course, getting married in May. After that, I’ll need to have a job so that we can live and pay our bills. What am I going to do? It’ll be strange if I’m not involved in Wesley as much as I’ve been these past 4 and a half years. What about my friends? Nicole has already moved, Beth is no longer on staff, what about Mary and Lauren? It’s hard that the seasons change, but it’s wonderful.

Can I just say how wonderful it is to be in this place? Yesterday during worship, God just prodded my heart and reminded me that I have the most beautiful life. I was so moved that I couldn’t stop crying. I love my family and my friends. I love Dane more than I could ever have imagined. I love my ministry this year and all of the women that participate. It’s hard to imagine that I will only be able to experience this time for this short moment.

God is good to me. He has given me more than I could ever have wanted.

I surrender all to You.

Last night we had as our late night activity the Death to Life Labyrinth. The moments were so holy and I’ve never experienced anything quite like that before. Everything was perfect- the music, the stations, the people, the place. As we began we focused on our flesh- our sin, our mortality, etc. As we moved forward, some of the verses for us to read were laid out for us over and over again. As we read them each time, they sunk in more and more deeply. And the verse that stood out to me the most was 1 John 3:14, “We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love our brothers. Anyone who does not love remains in death.” After I had read this verse 5 or 6 times, it sunk in that I live because I love. It’s like what Leonardo Da Vinci’s character in the movie Ever After said, “A life without love is no life at all.”

Loving people is always worth the risk of having your heart broken.

My favorite part of the entire labyrinth was the part where we were to eat an apple. We were supposed to be meditating on the tree of life in heaven and the fruit was to symbolize that as we chewed. I didn’t want to take an apple because there weren’t enough for everyone, but Lauren shared a couple of bites of hers with me. The apples were extraordinarily ripe and fragrant. They were sweet and delicious and the sweetness lingered on my lips even after I had swallowed. The taste was so familiar and dear and it reminded me of Home. Home as in heaven home. I’ve never even been there and the sweet apple taste reminded me of Jesus. I want to be homesick for heaven the way I was once.

I want to be where You are…

I’ve written these past few months about my darkness. I know this theme keeps resurfacing in me, but I’m convinced that God is really working through it. I’ve been so discouraged and downcast recently. I feel like I am the only one that messes up, the only one that makes mistakes that are irredeemable. I feel like everyday I mess up in some huge way. I have to apologize to the Lord and to people daily for my mistakes. I feel so imperfect and that I’m not getting any better, that I’m not growing. My mistakes and sins seem to be multiplying. All I’ve been thinking about these past few days are all of the things that are dark and imperfect within me.

Then a thought crossed my mind. I’m too focused on the things within me that are imperfect. Rather than focusing on my humanity, my sinful flesh, I should focus on the brilliance of divinity within me. Jesus has already declared to me in a promise from His word that He would transform my darkness into His goodness and light. “Into marvelous light I’m running, out of darkness, out of shame. By the cross You are the truth, You are the life, You are the way…” There is a spark of divinity within me that God is kindling. But I’m not watching that spark illuminate and grow, I’m seeing the mess and the darkness that have not yet been touched by a tender, merciful God. Rather than dwelling on my darkness frequently, I’m going to dwell on this beautiful light that is transforming me every moment. The Ultimate Dreamer has beautiful and good plans for me.

I hope that the light and the divinity within me touch the light and the divinity in you. The Lord is allowing me to partake in such a beautiful and sweet season.

“Sin, according to Jesus Christ, is falling short of perfect love.” Cranford Joseph Coulter

I read this in my book The Revolution the other day. Sometimes I just find it important to meditate on different thoughts or ideas and sin is one of them. Everything that is broken in this world is because somewhere, sometime someone failed to love perfectly.

I find this in my own life. When I fail to love Dane perfectly I am more easily tempted to treat him poorly, through my actions and my words. When I fail to love my friends perfectly, I sin against them by taking things out on them.

The Lord is the only one that loves perfectly all of the time, but I want to strive to love Dane more and more perfectly. I want to love my friends perfectly. I want to love my neighbor perfectly. I want to love God perfectly.

Jesus, teach me to love like you.

And he says, “My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

Sometimes though it seems like it is so much more difficult and tedious to live for people rather than die for them.

Jesus, teach me to live for people.