Tuesday, October 10, 2017


I just walked in the door after 14 hours of travel. The day was full of shuttles, trains, planes and then topped off with a nice three-hour car ride just to round things out. I am so tired.

The weekend was perfection. I wailed in prayer with thousands and worshipped as others stood their posts around the clock, lifting their praises right there in front of our nation’s capital. Do you know God is enthroned on the praises of His people? That means King Jesus took a seat at the National Mall this weekend. I got to help build it for Him.

Leaving home is hard. I have no doubt at all, due to the faithfulness of God to speak and confirm, that He desires me to go. And due to the lengthy process of submission, pruning and refining, I trust His timing. I trust His will and the intention of His heart. He is so good to me.

Even with His goodness in mind though, every time the mandate to go arises, I have to make a choice of obedience. Planes, and trains, and road trips were never what I dreamed of. In fact, every time I pack my suitcase, which has been a lot more frequently lately, I’m packing it to leave behind my dream come true. The boys and the farm, that’s what I asked for. For years I prayed and He heard me. He literally gave me everything I ever wanted and asked if I would take the microphone and answer the call and because I trust His heart and His intentions, I said yes. It isn't always that simple though.

Don't get my wrong, it’s always rewarding. I get the privilege of seeing God move in His body and I get to hear Him cry out to His bride. It is always, always worthy of my yes. Even on days when it makes me so tired I want to curl up and cry.

The moment of coming home is a hard shift, a tough transition. I was bombarded in the driveway by two boys, greeted at the door by one, largely unacknowledged by another and then screamed at by the two-year-old because he didn’t have a nap and I declined his request that I stand on the kitchen counter with him.

The to-do list is long here. My dream-come-true came with early mornings and a lot of chores and after four days gone, wonderful as they were, there is little time to rest and recoup. And when I walked in this evening, I had that overwhelmed and mildly defeated feeling that often presents itself in my moments of weakness.

Five weeks ago, I was invited to go to India with Heart of David (co-founded by Rick Pino and Jose Diaz). My immediate answer was a firm no, quickly followed by all the reasons such a trip was not feasible. But then, that still, small voice began speaking. And when I said, “Absolutely no,” I heard the whisper ask, “Why not?”

Sometimes, I think people have an entirely wrong view of my spirituality. Maybe it’s the cost of transparency, maybe it gives people the wrong idea that when you talk about things openly it means they aren’t that hard for you. A lot of the time, I feel like I’m not nearly as strong as people seem to think I am. All the time, I am certain that without God’s grace, I would be a hot mess without a hope. I know, because I used to be one. And now I’m a girl with all her dreams come true that struggles to pack the suitcase but in the end, always does. Because there is a yes in my heart and He is a king and a lover and a friend that is worthy.

When I realized God was actually telling me I was going to go to India, I yelled at my sister-in-law to shut-up (I really am sorry about that, Sarah) and then binge ate an entire bag of caramels. In five minutes. It was not cute. Sometimes my yes isn’t bubbling at the top, ready and willing to volunteer itself as a response to the call. Sometimes my yes is a small and feeble thing, buried somewhere down beneath a bunch of no, and it takes a bag of Chewy Werther’s and a couple of emotional outbursts to sort it all out.

Tonight, I dragged myself in the house, coaxed the two-year-old off the counter, listened to the run-down of how the kids did all weekend from their saint Aunt Mikela, who held down the fort for us to be gone. The whole while, I was desperately trying not to lose my footing as doubt and exhaustion washed over my mind. Then I saw an envelope on the counter. I opened it, and in it was a card with a small bird on the front, one with words filling the inside that overflowed me with hope and alongside them, a check for one hundred dollars.

It was sent by one of my Instagram followers. A couple that knows me only from my social media and the life I share in little squares. 100 dollars from someone who is practically a stranger because they feel anointing on my words and have deemed me good ground to sow into. Do you have any idea what that means to me? The Word says that where a person's treasure is, their heart is also. Do you know, that every dollar I've received has felt like people binding their heart to this call I so feebly responded to? And with every single dollar, I feel more and more brave.

Five weeks in, with three left to go, and I only have 1200 or so dollars left to raise. Five weeks in, and I have seen such a wave of generosity, and such an overwhelming evidence of favor, it’s begun to confront and reconfigure my underestimations of my God. Do you know how many strangers have given to this thing? Do you know I’ve been handed money by people who don’t believe in God but they love me enough to stand behind me? Can you grasp the implications of that in a Kingdom where sowing brings a harvest? Do you know that when I first told God no, it’s because I genuinely, honestly, truly was afraid He might not do it. I was afraid He might leave me hanging. Because I live in a world where thousands of dollars don’t exist on my bank ledger, a world where extravagant giving flows from the barely-enough, not from all-the-extra.

But He’s doing it. From all the right sources, at exactly the right times. And every single dollar has been like an arrow to the heart of my NO. It has been the evidence that this is a body and I am not alone. It’s been a confirmation that my Father funds the yes, every single time.

He really does. So can I encourage you tonight? Though I’m tired and my feet hurt and my laundry won’t get done until tomorrow because I chose to write this instead. But I need to urge you. Listen to the voice of the whisper that asks, “Why not?” when you say, “I can’t.”

Uncover your yes. Moses stuttered his. Mary questioned how it could be possible before she gave hers. Esther considered silence. Even Jesus asked for the cup to pass from Him. But in the end, they, along with the rest of the world-changers and history-makers sorted out their no and found their yes.

So please, hear me. Right now, where ever you are, take a minute to consider the call you have been hearing. The urging to go or to establish or to embark. To learn, to teach, to grow, to be challenged. Whatever it is, only you know for sure. But give Him your yes and let me tell you, He will work out the rest.

Even if you have to answer the “Why not?” with a whisper, the hosts of heaven are waiting and the eyes of God are seeking whom He might be shown strong through.

Repeat after me.

Yes, Jesus. I am yours and you are enough. 
Yes, Jesus, I am yours and you are worthy. 
Yes, Jesus. I choose to trust you with the details. 
Yes, Jesus. I choose to believe your heart for me is good. 
Yes, Jesus. You're love has never left me wanting. 
Yes, Jesus. Yes. I say yes.

If you'd like to sow into the gospel being spread through the country of India and a throne of praises being established for King Jesus there, you can give through Paypal here. Thank you so, so much. Every single dollar speaks volumes to my heart.