The Art of Being Still

I have a tendency to worry and let my mind wander to all the impossible scenarios. I want to have control over every area so I my mind does not appear to stop. I worry about what people think about me. I worry about what is going to happen next. I worry about whether any change is the right thing for me right now. I have struggled recently with worry because of my accident. I worry that, even though everything fell into place rather quickly, the other shoe would drop. I worry that I am not enough–that I’m less than because my brain injury. I simply worry.

Be still.

Be still and know that I am God.

In all my worries and fears, God spoke this truth over me.

Be still and know that I am God.

I am not the one that can change the world. God changes the world. God can change the world through me. I can only be a useful vessel if I am willing to let go of my worries, my fears and my plans, and sit still before the Lord.

God wants me to understand that who He created me to be so that I can fulfill the purpose that He has for my life. I cannot understand who I am in Christ if I spend my energy worrying about what people think about me, or fearing that I am not enough.

Fear and worry is a handicap that keeps me from embracing who I am and what I can do. Fear holds me back from taking those steps of faith that could lead to great adventures for the Creator of the universe.

I realized recently that I have been feeding my worries and fears. I had been subconsciously encouraging the lies that I am not enough. This hurt me.

I was believing the lies and letting Satan get a foothold into my dreams. He was halting my progress because I was more focused on myself and my insecurities that I could not focus on God. I was being selfish because my focus was on me. What would happen to me? Would people like me? Would I be good enough? Would I be likeable?

My mother confronted me about my attitude. At first, I was frustrated. Didn’t she see that I was just worried? I was not being selfish, rather I just wanted people to like me. After a while, mainly after I moved to Washington, D.C for 2 months, I began to see the wisdom in what she was saying.

If I wanted people to like me, I needed to put them first. I needed to find ways that I could bless the people that I am around. People like others who bless them. People who are positive and uplifting. People who think about the needs of others first. I was getting so wrapped up in myself, my worries and my fears. I began to notice during my first week in my internship that the more I focused on blessing others, the less I thought about my fears. The less I needed to be liked. I could be who God created me to be, without worrying what people would think.

Be still and know that I am God.

When I get wrapped up in myself, I forget to quiet my mind and look at God. God is the Creator of the universe, yet he values my time spent with Him. Just like any other relationship, if I am spending too much time focused on myself, I can’t give a lot of time to the other person. I have to step back and realize that being still and spending time with God was going to be very important in my battle against the worries and the fears. I need to fill my mind with the truths of who God is and who He created me to be if I wanted to be free. My prayer for the beginning of this journey is to keep this phrase in my head so that I can remember to be still and know that He is God.

Accepting the New Me

Isn’t it crazy how after a mission trip or something like that, we are no longer the same person we were, but we embrace that change. After something traumatic, we change, but we push against it. We want the “old us” back.

Why is that?

I think it’s because in one situation we put ourselves in a situation where change is an option. We don’t consciously choose to change, but we know change is a possibility. We see things and are impacted by people where there’s no turning back. There’s no chance to unlearn the things we have been through.

In the other, we have no control.

Zero. Zilch.

This change in our personality is forced upon us. In my case, I never saw it coming. I’m a different person, but I’m still Sara. If that sounds confusing, it’s because I haven’t really quite figured it out myself yet. My TBI changed me, not only because of the trauma of it, but because it changed the actual chemistry of my brain. I didn’t have a choice to not change. I’m still trying to tread the the line of trying hard to be the old me, or give up completely.

I have a choice—I can choose to fight against the change or I can choose to accept the new me. I’m still struggling with actually accepting the new me. It’s not easy to encounter things I used to be able to do, but now can’t. I’m still trying to figure out how to balance trying to be as close to 100% as I can, but also embrace the new me. This new person who gets overwhelmed easily—that can’t handle loud noises or flashing lights.

There may be things that I can’t do as well as I could, but there are also things that I can do better now. I’m still working on figuring those out. For now, I’m going to try not to fight against the changes. I’m going to embrace the new me.

One thing I do know is that I’ve never been more sure of God’s love for me.

There are days where His love is the only thing that gets me through the day.

There are moments where I hold on to the phase by Lysa TerKeurst: God is good. God is good to me. God is good at being God.

There are moments when I get frustrated with myself and my limitations, but God chooses those moments to show me that I’m more loved than I would ever know.

Where’s Home?

12 years ago, my life changed drastically. I moved back to the states.

For only being 23 years old, I’ve had three life changing things happen. Moving back was the first. My parents were missionaries so my theology was shaped by dry deserts and dirt floors. From when I was only 3 months old, I grew up in strange culture, only it wasn’t strange to me. I grew up speaking British English and chasing spiders.

When I moved back, everyone said I was coming home, but this culture was strange.

This year, March 17, marks 12 years that I’ve been in the states. After March 17, I will have lived in America longer than I lived in Nigeria.

This is bittersweet. Most people won’t fully understand the significance of this year, but I want to honor the country and people that played a significant part in the shaping of who I am today.

Here’s 4 things I learned:

  1. Cultures are vastly different. In America, there were so many choices-so many things. My brain often got (and still gets) overwhelmed at the grocery store because there are 10 choices for 1 item. Time is linear, here, rather than circular. This moment in time was thought to never come around again which was the exact opposite of Nigeria. If you had planned on doing something, but someone stopped by, you would focus on that person because the time to do that thing would come around again. I, also, grew up in a relationship focused culture rather than a time focused culture. The culture was dictated by relationships rather than the clock. If someone stopped by, you would drop everything and welcome them. People matter first.
  2. It is possible to put roots into people as opposed to places. Places are important. While staying is just as important as going, sometimes, it’s hard to call a certain place “Home”. Home to me is people. I’ve put down roots into people—people that I’ve established as being important in my journey that is called life. I’ve nurtured those roots—watered them. It doesn’t matter the location of the people that a well place elephant picture or song can’t make them seem closer. If we get the chance, coffee dates are my love language, and I love discussing life over coffee. I put roots into people. Even after my TBI, I remember most people but situations and places are fuzzy . I think it stemmed from my transitional childhood and the fact that relationships were greatly valued. Don’t get me wrong, places matter, as my spiritual formation has been shaped by lush green springs, the grey, rainy days, the vast deserts in Africa, the blue-green oceans in Haiti and the magnificent mountains in Montana. God has met me in so many places in the reality of my nomadic past and He often used people.
  3. My heart is big enough to hold many places—more places than I even know. When I first moved back, I couldn’t imagine loving this country as much as I loved Nigeria. Nigeria is still my heart’s home but this country has grown on me. The first time I went to Haiti I didn’t know that it—the country itself—would worm its way into my heart. My heart was stolen by the people and their generosity. The first time I went to Montana, my soul felt free and I fell in love with the mountains and the people. When I went to the Dominican Republic, I didn’t know that my heart had room for another country, but it did. My heart made room for the DR, and it stamped itself on my heart. My heart holds those places closely and now, I know that my heart can hold so many more places.
  4. Normal is overrated. When I first moved back, I felt like I had a stamp on my head. I felt like I had to explain to everyone why I was so weird-why I didn’t know what movies, books or songs were popular or why I knew more about the current events than musical artists. Someone would tell a joke and I would laugh even though I had no idea why it was funny. I just didn’t want to be the only person not laughing. I was trying so hard to be “normal”. I wrestled with insecurity because I was not like everyone else. Over time, I learned to see the value of my experience. It made me a more diverse and well-rounded person. I may be different, run on African time, and not know what is currently popular, but I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

Living and Loving Through the Mess

November 20, 2014.

My life changed that day.

It started out as a normal day—classes, conversations, chapel—until the phone rang.

My mom had called to tell me that my cousin had passed away earlier that day.

Life stopped.

18 years old.

Brilliant, compassionate, and loving Tony.

He was gone.

I sat there in the chapel, unable to wrap my head around the reality that He was gone.

I would never again comment on the current I Heart T-shirt he was wearing.

I would never again decorate the thematic Christmas trees while having a theological and philosophical debate with him.

I would never again hear him play percussion.

I would never again listen to him discuss his fascination with a new animal.

I could not believe he was gone.

Honestly, my first response was anger. Mainly, anger at God for letting this happen.

Anger.
I was a mess.

This tragedy shook up and challenged my world.

People would ask me “how are you doing?” and my first instinct would be to scream “How do you think I am doing?’, but I would simply respond, “I’m okay.”

I am okay.

I am fine.
These responses covered up my grief and put it on the shelf where I did not have to deal with it. Internally, I was grieving, angry, frustrated and incredibly devastated. Outwardly, I looked and acted normal. I put on a mask because I need to be okay. I needed to act like I had it all together, because I could not fall apart. If I was real with myself, I would acknowledge that I was mess.

When the thought comes and the memory surfaces, I immediately shove it aside. I cannot think about that right now. I cannot go there, or I will not come back.

I was not content simply being “okay” because that seemed unfair to Tony’s memory, but I could not handle the pain.

Outwardly, I had to be normal because that was the only way that I could function in any capacity.

One day, as I was laying in my bed, pretending to have my life together, my RD Kelly asked me “How are you doing?”

My generic response came out. “I am fine.”

She looked at me, really looked at me and said, “It is okay to not be okay. Grieving is a natural part of loss.” Or something along those lines.

I was allowed to not be okay.

At that point, all the emotions came rushing to me.
I was overwhelmed.

I was not okay then.

I am still not okay.

Tony’s death still hurts.

A few weeks later, I also lost my grandma.

The devastating feeling of losing control hit me again.

She would never see me graduate college.

She would never see me follow in her footsteps.

I would never again make cookies with her.

I would never again play scrabble with her.

I couldn’t handle it. My grief was messy. My grief still is very messy.

It still hurts a lot.

I will never stop missing them. Someday, the pain will dull, I will heal and rebuild myself around the loss, but I will never be the same again.

The crazy thing about this is that through the state of my grief and my life is messy. I’m remembering His love and how He covers me even when I make a mess of things (Colossians 3:3). I’m remembering that He is a God who is not afraid of our messes but who enters right into the middle of them.

Jesus, the Creator of the Universe, opts to sit in my grief and mess. He does not expect my life to be all put together.

He allows me to grieve and wrestle with the tough questions.

At first, I did not know how to be sad in God’s presence. I had been trained my whole life to approach God in search of some kind of uplift. Now, when I approach Him, uplift is not what I want. It isn’t desirable, let alone achievable.

It felt as though I needed put on a brave face for God, pretend things aren’t so bad. Like He was embarrassed by my pain. Like remaining sad in His presence was an affront to His goodness. God only wanted to see happy faces.

I felt like I needed to ask God to fix the situation. Once I reconciled myself to accepting myself in my mess and pain, I realized that God accepts my pain.

He sits with me in my pain and lets me grieve the loss of people and places without judgement or condemnation.

He ever expected me to be perfect.

Now, I continue to sit in my grief, slowly healing, God reminds me that my grief does not scare him.

My anger does not surprise him.

He continues to love me through the pain.

Ann Voskamp writes, “That no matter what’s happening or what’s coming up—the bottom line is God’s got you—so fear can’t get you. And He looks you right in the eye & hands you a bit of light: You have enough of Me & courage to do this hard thing. You have enough of Me & strength to not give up. You have enough of Me & love to keep on giving. You have enough of Me & Peace to know that you are carried. You have enough of Me to simply rest. You have enough of Me—and I am enough. You are enough—because the great I AM is in you… and with you… and for you.”

After my car accident, one of my favorite things about God was that he heard the cry of my heart. I could be shaking with sobs, no words in my mind, but He knew. He wrapped His spirit around me and comforted me.

Even now, when I get frustrated because I’m not getting better fast enough for my tastes, He meets me in the middle of my mess.

In the muddied water of my emotions, He meets me and comforts me.

When it appears that everyone else’s lives are moving forward and mine seems to be on pause, He meets me.

As I get frustrated because of my TBI symptoms, God dries my tears and reminds me that He has greater things in store. He can take something negative like a car accident and brain injury and turn it into something good.

My grief does not scare Him.

I simply need to have the courage to simply allow Him to love me in my grief and mess.

5 Things You Don’t Know But Should Know About Brain Injuries

March is Brain Injury Awareness month. Brain injuries are becoming more known because of the NFL, but we are still just tapping the iceberg.

1. You won’t be able to tell someone has a brain injury. Right after my accident, you could tell something was wrong. My eyes weren’t focusing. I wasn’t moving my right hand at all. Now, through, I still have a brain injury, but I look “normal”. If you didn’t know my story, and I simply met you on the street, you would have no idea the year I’ve had. It’s an invisible bruise.

“I live by my systems. I have to have a schedule or I am lost….Also, just because I look OK doesn’t mean anything. I have worked for years to get where I am now.” — Nancy Davis

2. People with a brain injury are not stupid, they simply process information differently and slowly. Everyone pictures a person with a brain injury as someone in a wheelchair drooling. This is often not the case. I know people who were civil engineers before their accident. Their TBI affected some of the way they did things, but they can still do what they did in some capacity. I know for me, I used to be able to look at something and remember/recognize it. But now, it takes a couple of times of reading it to maybe remember it. That is no way means I’m less smart than I was, it just looks different. Also, if someone asks me question after question, my brain gets overwhelmed and shuts down. People need to ask me one question and give me time to process the question before I can give an eloquent answer

“My brain takes different paths to understanding and explaining. It’s not a straight road, but one with detours.” — Keli Hanks

3. They aren’t lazy, they just need a lot more rest to function on a “normal” level.

I need to figure in more rest time now than I used to because without it, I hit a wall and am literally useless to anyone. You think about how much your brain is involved in. A while ago, my sister and I were out to lunch. I was quiet so she asked me what I was thinking. I said, “Drinking water.” There were no other thoughts in my head but the act of raising the cup to my lips and drinking the water. Your brain is involved in every act of every day. No wonder we are wiped out all the time.

“Remembering things is difficult. I’m not being lazy by only working a few hours a day or needing days off during a busy time — I just need more rest to function than you do… Changes take time for me to adjust to. What works for one person doesn’t always work for me.” — Sara Hill

4. A brain injury changes a person, not simply because it’s traumatic, but it changes the chemistry of the brain itself.

In a simple way, I used to be way more extroverted but now I’m a lot more introverted to the extent where I’ve had conversations with people only to discover that they went on solely in my head. I’ve also become significantly more OCD. I have to have everything just right, and it bothers me if one thing is out of place.

“My injury may be invisible, but my life has been turned upside down. I will never be the same again.” — Christina Chalgren

5. TBI individuals are some of the bravest people you will ever meet because they have survived something that was meant to destroy them.

I Won’t Let You Go

I am a piece of work.

I have a lot of faults.

I compare myself to others.

I complain A LOT.

I have trust issues (sometimes even with God).

I push people close to me away because I am afraid of them leaving and getting hurt.

I am often too proud.

These are only a few of the faults that make me cringe.I have a lot of faults.The beautiful thing is that even though I am a mess of faults, I am a living human being. This means that I have the potential to change or grow. I have grown. I am a different living human being than I was 6 years ago, when I was a senior in high school. I have outgrown some of my insecurities and gained new ones. I have pushed myself out of my comfort zone so many times, that my comfort zone has changed. Insecurity has the power to push me into the corner, causing me to become a wallflower, not growing but wilting in the feeling of being alone right in the middle of a crowd—a crowd that loves me for me. The thing about insecurity is that just when you think you have won, it rears its ugly head again.

I have a lot of faults.

I know I am not perfect. That thought rolls round and round in my head until God stops me in my tracks and tells me over and over again. “Beautiful daughter of mine, you don’t need to be perfect. You are already perfectly loved.”I am loved through my faults.That does not mean that I do not have the responsibility to fix my faults if I can. I fail. I hurt my friends when I get insecure because I say things I don’t mean. I push people away and hurt them. I often push people away before I could possibly get hurt. That’s really no way to go through life. I need to take responsibility for my faults.I try to hide from my responsibilities and put the blame of my faults on other people and things. As I try to hide, I become encamped in a place where God is preparing me. He is working in me.I may be encamped in a way that I do not understand. I don’t know how to fix my faults. God offers hope.“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”Phil. 1:6

God began a journey in my life and heart and He promises to finish it in his perfect timing. He is working out His plan for my life while helping me work on my faults.

I cannot change who I am and how God made me: I do not want to do that.

I run with my head down.

-I cry when I am stressed.

-I laugh at myself even though I am not funny.

-I act like a kid sometimes.

-I love colored pens and organized schedules.

-I desire spontaneous adventures.

-I am a romantic at heart.

These and other quirks make me who I am. A brown-eyed, curly-haired, laughing, and romantic, brave individual.

I am a work in progress, but I do not want to change who I am. I just need to work through my faults.I am God’s beautiful, loved, cherished daughter, and He wants me to live fully. As God works in me, helping me fix those parts of myself that need fixing. The areas that need work, because I am not perfect. He is there when I can’t change myself. He walks beside me as I wrestle with being present when I want to run away. He encourages me as I choose to trust people. He sits with me as I learn to love who I am through my insecurities. He cheers me on as a give up my pride and base my abilities on Him.I don’t have to be perfect because God is. In the quiet spaces of my heart, God continually whispers “You are loved more than you could ever know.” No matter what our story is-where we have been, what we have done-God’s love can never be diminished, tarnished, shaken or taken. Our response is to abide in that and fully live loved. The amazing thing about God is that even when I fail, God doesn’t loosen His grip on my soul. Even when it feels like He’s let go-when things aren’t going anywhere near my way-He’s still right there beside me, holding my heart. He’s still working in me-figuring out the sinful kinks in my soul. It’s always an adventure with Jesus as He works in me and makes me more like Him.

Expectation

It’s only been just over a month into 2018. It’s been a month that I’ve reached landmark after landmark. I’ve already seen God do amazing things in my life, and I’m expecting Him to do more. Recently, I spoke to the Independent Studies students at Mansfield Christian School. The whole idea was God’s faithfulness in my life. Someone asked me, “What was my plan now? What was my new desire?” It’s funny how I had never pictured myself working at a school or contemplated working in a rehab but now those are really things I’m thinking about. It’s funny how God changes your dreams or gives you a new dream.

This is going to be my best year yet because I’m expecting God to do great things.

On Monday, I drove by myself for the first time in a year, a month, and 26 days (not that I’m counting or anything). It felt good to be free again. It was a little nerve racking but I drove. It was a big milestone to pass. It’s just around town for now, and it feels like I’m 16 again, but it’s baby steps.

Also, I’ve been swimming again. It might not seem like a big thing to others but it is to me. The water is like my second home. I’ve swam for 8 years, and I would much rather swim any distance than run. I tried swimming last summer but my legs were not strong enough to keep me afloat. I tried again recently and I could swim. I was very out of shape but I did it. Swimming is very good for me physically as well as mentally. It takes a whole lot of coordination to swim effectively. It made me feel a little more like the old Sara to get in the water again.

“God may not answer every prayer with a miracle, but He does answer a few with a surprise”

Sheridan Voysey

So I’m expecting God to surprise me greatly this year, and I’m excited for the adventure He is taking me on.

It’s going to a great year!

Giving in to Negative Thoughts

A bad day does not make for a bad life (Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it).

This week, I gave into my fears, of failing, of letting people down, of being imperfect.

I have learned over the years that the only difference between an adventure and an obstacle is attitude. I gave in to my negative attitude this week. I allowed myself to follow the mental tracks of self-doubt, negativity, hesitation, and uncertainty.

I failed.

I failed in almost every area of life this week-oversleeping, and not having words. Utterly and absolutely failed.

I gave in when I allowed my failures to define my life.

I fell into old patterns of fear.

I had a bad day-a few bad days-but that does not give me permission to go down this trail fear.

I gave in and allowed my thoughts to define who God is and what He meant.

In my failures, I gave in and decided to control my life myself.

And, guess what….

I failed miserably.

I had no control of my emotions, of my life, of even my alarms.

It hurt.

Failure humbles me and reminded me that I am not the One who breathed the stars.

Just when I thought I knew that being brave and audacious meant, I was reminded that I need to be brave in my failures.

Admit my shortcomings and buck up.

Offer the failures up to the King of Kings and move on.

King David writes, “Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him” Psalms 62:5. He knew all about failure. He failed at many things, but he kept returning to the steadfastness of the Lord. He presents himself, his failures and successes, before the Lord.

Finally, at the end of the week, I gave in and accepted that God was God (C. S. Lewis). I relinquished control of my life and emotions to the One who created me.

Audaciously, I cried letting God meet me in failures. Humbly, offering them up as a meager sacrifice of my messy life.

Bravely, I accepted my humanness and let God be God.

Redeemed, I allowed myself to focus on His grace and not on my failings.

“I learned to dance with the fear that I’d been running from.”

Ben Rector.

I gave in and let God instill joy in my heart in the midst of my fears.

Habits of Grace

The early church started simply—radically simple as believers met together, lived life together and shared what they had to meet the needs of the people around them.

In the book of Acts, the early church consisted of a small house, in a small city, in a small country to be the place God first sent His Holy Spirit. The church consisted of everyday people who were simply willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus by receiving His Spirit. Christ worked through Peter’s sermon that first day, spreading the gospel so that thousands heard the good news (Acts 2:14-40). That first sermon spread the gospel beyond the influence of the small circle like a holy ripple effect, as the Holy Spirit empowered each new believer to live transformed doing revolutionary things like selling everything to meet the needs of the people around them, and doing life with other sinners around them. The early church, through the Holy Spirit, learned to do life together in simple, intentional, and gracious ways.

The Spirit moved in ways that they could only imagine. The gospel continued to spread through the region regardless of the opposition that it received. Stephen, boldly, stepped out and challenged the generational idols. He lived by the Spirit to the point that as he was arrested and stoned, He proclaimed Christ. He continued to preach his guts out for the glory of God. He did not stop telling the world about the truth with his last breath.

Neither did the early church. The most common reaction to a tragedy like that would be to withdraw and allow emotions to settle down.

The Church did not back down. They continued to share the truth about Jesus regardless of the persecution they received from all sides. In their humanity, they could have recoiled and retreated after the tragedy. Instead, they were committed to love others for the sake of Christ without regard for their own lives. They proudly professed their faith wherever they went.

Thus, the gospel spread. The church scattered but not running to hide, rather it propelled them out to share the gospel in every corner of the world. Like a wave in the oceans, person after person impacted the communities they were placed in, and the gospel spread like wildfire to the ends of the earth.

The Christians did not simply wait for the Pharisees and opposition to challenge them, before they chose Jesus. They made Jesus and the gospel the most important thing in their life. They made the decision to follow Him all or nothing before they were placed in the situation to choose.

You do not simply decide to do something and immediately become good at it, rather you put in the time and effort into preparing, learning and training.

It is like a marathon. You do not simply go out one day and decide to run a marathon.

If you do, you will fail.

You train slowly over time, building up endurance, stamina, and speed.

You train and prepare to succeed.

Benjamin Franklin wrote, “By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail”. No truer words have ever been spoken.

Could you say now you would do if someone told you to deny Christ and die, like Stephen? The common response made by people today is “I hope I would….,” or “I believe that I would…., but one can’t know for sure until placed in that situation”.

The reality is that you can decide now.

You decide today what decision you will make at that moment when you are asked to lay your life down for the one who died on the cross for you.

It is a daily decision. One in which you choose Jesus day in and day out-practicing a habit of grace-living our daily lives as a testimony to the Holy Spirit inside us.

We choose to love the people around us. We invest in the people God has placed us in the vicinity of-choosing to do life with them. Bravely choosing to invest in the messiness of what it means to be a human living in community with other sinful humans.

Here is where grace comes in.

Grace. The realization that we are sinners and do not deserve the unmerited favor placed on us by the Creator of the universe.

But accepting the grace extended to us means we can be used by God throughout the simple actions of everyday life.

The grace extended by God to us today allows us to live into the same power of the Holy Spirit that the early church embraced. We can choose to live into the vast amount of untapped treasure we have at our disposal.

God still moves in vast ways today as we choose to enjoy getting to know Jesus, our loving Savior.

The reality is that is in the daily devotions, the prayer, and the fellowship with Jesus and others where you develop the habit of choosing Jesus in the small moments. You begin slowly building and deepening the relationship with simple habits of grace.

Broken People Loving Broken People.

As Christians, with whom do we surround ourselves? Who do we let in to our sacred space, and with whom do we choose to share our story with? We are constantly growing closer to God, so automatically we are going to choose to surround ourselves with people who are growing as well.

But the need to share the gospel with them diminishes because they already understand this organic relationship with the Creator of the universe. He is already working in their hearts.

Like attracts like.

But, should it?

A community of believers worshipping God, and sharing what He is doing in their lives reveals a piece of God’s heart for his people. God thrives in the middle of sacred moments like Sunday mornings or bible studies. Wherever two or three are gathered, God is in the midst of them.

God-honoring community and fellowship is a beautiful thing, but if that is all one focuses on then they are missing the entire point.

Jesus calls us to help spread the gospel to the ends of the earth. If we simply choose to remain within the confines of God- honoring community, we become stagnant.

We are not forwarding the kingdom.

Jesus surrounded himself with the least and lowest. He interacted with tax-collectors, Pharisees, prostitutes, women, and the poor. Jesus walked with the misfits and lepers. Jesus repeatedly reached out to those at the bottom of the social pyramid—poor people, women, Samaritans, lepers, children, prostitutes and tax collectors. Jesus was also eager to accept people who were well-placed, but he made clear that all regardless of social position, needed to repent. Needed Him.

The people he interacted with were looked over and discarded by society, but Jesus saw them. He was not afraid of their messy lives or dirty faces. Should we?

Jesus loved them and welcomed them into his story. The merciful story of redemption.

Jesus shared meals with them and did life with them. He laughed and cried with them.

He welcomed the women and the children into his story, when no one else would.

He opened his heart, life and arms wide to allow all the brokenhearted and oppressed.

How much more is our call to share this Jesus with broken people?

This Jesus who chose a small boy to be the bearer of the meal that feed the five thousand. This Jesus that saved an adulterous woman from being stoned. This Jesus that offered the Samaritan woman at the well living water. This Jesus that made the blind see and the lame walk. This Jesus who cast out demons and healed lepers.
This is our Jesus.

This is the Jesus who advocates for and liberates the oppressed.

Our call is not to simply socialize with people who already know him, but to fill up during those God-honoring fellowships and take Jesus to the brokenhearted.

They need Jesus-His love, His mercy, His peace.

As we branch out and reach out to the people in our midst who are brokenhearted, overlooked, oppressed, disconcerted, and lost, we reflect the One who gave us life.

We reflect His work in our lives so that the people we are allowing into our life and story can see the impact our Jesus has made.

Jesus speaks for Himself when we allow His light to show through our messy lives.

We do not have it all figured out as we reach out to others—that is the beauty of it. God works in our life as He changes theirs.

The change comes when the people we are reaching out to feel loved and cherished as humans because we are welcoming them into our lives and homes, not afraid of their pain, baggage and hurt.

It simply starts with a smile and “Hello, would you like to do life with me? You are a valuable human being, and I choose to let you into my sacred and messy story, Jesus’ story.”

“I want to be outside with the misfits, with the rebels, the dreamers, second-chance givers, the radical grace lavishers, the ones with arms wide open, the courageously vulnerable, and among even—or maybe especially—the ones rejected by the Table as not worthy enough or right enough.”

Sarah Bessey