My Case for Youth Ministry

It was a whirlwind month of May, and I left so inspired. And I just had to get around to telling you all about it...

First, I hit the East Coast of Canada to represent Compassion at the first-ever One Conference—a gathering of ~2000 youth and youth leaders from across denominations, coming together to learn, worship, and have a ton of fun.

Then, I made my way to the prairies along with my brother to represent Compassion Canada at YC Alberta—a gathering of ~5500 youth and youth leaders, again, from across denominations, coming together to learn, worship and have a lot of fun (and, as it turns out, to sponsor 157 Compassion kids! WHAT!).

photo credits

Finally, I came home and made my way north to the Muskokas to gather with my own youth group... ~500 of us gathering for a weekend at camp to build our relationships with each other and with Jesus.

Then, on top of all that, I got to finally come home and in the first week of June watch 10 people from my youth group get baptized, 2 of which were girls in my Jr. High group that I got to help baptize. It was an absolute joy.

video credits to my super talented brother!

There's several things I'm convinced of at the end of this mini-youth ministry marathon, but here's my biggest one. If you are not involved with a youth ministry at the moment, I highly recommend it.

Seriously. There's just something that's good for your soul when you stand with dozens, hundreds or thousands of teenagers and declare the name of Jesus in song, word and community.

It's a balm to cynicism. It's a reason to hope. 

When teenagers have the courage to say yes to Jesus, I am confident that we are going to be okay. 

When teenagers decide to sponsor dozens and dozens of children through Compassion, I see a generation that sees the messy brokenness of the world and is relentless in its pursuit of shalom anyways.

When teenagers lift their hands and declare the reckless love of God, the powerful name of Jesus, I know that the Spirit is going to move in mighty ways through them.

I've had the privilege of going nearly coast to coast this spring, hanging out with teenagers. And I just want you to know that it's not bad news. It's not the desolate landscape of hopelessness that we sometimes think it is. 

It's a movement of kind, relentless, passionate, tenacious, bright young people who love Jesus and are committed to His peace, His shalom, His Kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.

It's pretty cool, friends, and it is a joy to be a part of it.

The Story We Live By

It's funny how reading can convict you to write.

I'm taking The Canadian Short Story in summer school right now--a fun elective for the summer.

And it is totally convicting me to write.

We live stories that either give our lives meaning or negate it with meaninglessness. If we change the stories we live by, quite possibly we change our lives. 

--Nigerian storyteller Ben Okri

That quote resonated with me deep.

I hoped to be around this blog more this year. But many times I've felt word-less. Why write? I thought, Is there really any thing left to be said in this world?

Yes. That's what I hear zing through my heart as my professor reads it out: We live stories. Stories change lives. 

The writer deep inside me always knows this, of course. But sometimes I needs a reminder.

And when the world feels like it's imploding on itself, it can be hard to comprehend the power of a simple story.

But what about that story of a God who loved us so much that He refused to leave us in this imploding world all on our own?

So He made a plan and suddenly--God with us, showing us the way to live our stories. To live compassion and humility and servanthood and peace.

Then He spread his arms wide at calvary and took the brunt of the worst this imploding world had to offer... and He defeated it.

What. About. That. Story?

Yeah--that's the story that gives our life meaning.

And until every heart knows the immense, overwhelming beauty of it, we must tell it again and again and again. No matter how many times it takes--because the Love in this story is relentless.

So yes, yes, yes. Artists and singers and filmmakers and thespians and yes - writers, too. We must tell stories, and live stories, and change lives.

Because until every life lives transformed by the Greatest Story of a Man on a cross, defeating death and inviting all to the resurrection...

There are still more stories to be told of lives transformed by the Good News that He is making all things new.



Does this mean I'll blog more? Perhaps. I do know that words are slowly coming back, and that feels good.

Embracing His Heart

I'm done with this whole "Jesus lives in my heart" deal.

At four-years old, I asked Jesus to come a live in my heart, but I am so over that.

Now before you call my youth pastor to report another young person running from Christianity, just hold up and hear me out for a second.

Rather than Jesus living in my heart, I want to live in His.

I am so over a Christian culture where Jesus comes to live in our hearts - but dude, like, keep your feet off my heart's coffee table, OK? And, yeah, the guest bed is in the basement.

Make yourself at home (but please stay out of my bedroom), fair trade(-ish) coffee's in the coffeepot, here's the wifi password, and I'll see you when I get back from Function/Activity/Meeting No. 24573290.

Huh?

No way. That is not what pursuing, embracing, living like Jesus is about. 

We have to stop just fitting Jesus into our hearts, lives, agendas, and start living out His heart.

We're ok with the whole Christian deal, as long as Jesus moves into our lives. But what if we abandoned it all to live in the middle of His heart?

Forget about moving Him into the guest bed in the basement of our hearts and just giving Him Sundays... Imagine what could happen if we literally pulled out our entire, beating, ugly, bleeding hearts, held them out to the One who bled for us and said "Here - do what you will with this awful mess."

I'm gonna take a wild guess here and say it would be beautifully ravaging... ravaging-ly beautiful.

OK... So maybe I'm not totally over this Jesus lives in my heart thing. 

But let's be Kingdom-people who live for more than that.

Let's literally surrender our entire hearts to Jesus - give up the whole entire thing and tell Him to take. it. away.

We want to know His heart.

Let's surrender our entire bleeding, beating hearts to the One who bled for us and really mean it -

Take me to the middle of Your heart.

2014 Year In Review

"Well, that was unexpected." 

That 4-word phrase seemed to be the theme of my 2014.

I guess when you make your #oneword2014 LESS - as in less-me-more-Jesus - He fills your year with crazy, unexpected grace.

My year felt like anything but less, but in the most crazy-grace way, it was filled with less stuff and more Kingdom - and could a girl ask for anything more?

And so we find ourselves here, at the 2014 Year in Review, and I can only look back and smile... Thanks.

January brought this blog's most-read post ever - by a long shot.

February was freezing... The perfect month to cheer on Team Canada in Sochi, turn sweet seventeen, and spend a night sleeping outside for a youth curriculum on empathy?! Sure. ;)

March felt like this year's quietest month. I did officially become our family's second-fastest cuber... Although I think my calling really is in helping to run those comps, not compete in them. ;) Spring was also a wondrous time to be a Toronto Raptors fan [as it is now] and you can be sure that this basketball family was cheering loud. [Like, loud. Really. Just ask mom. ;)]

In April, my family said goodbye to my beloved grandfather, as he stepped from this earth and into eternity with our Creator. As I've reflected on his life more than ever throughout this past year, I've only become even more thankful for him, his life, and his courage.

In May, my family and I started to tick down the days until our second trip to the Philippines in 3 years. 

And then it was just a whirlwind from there... One I feel like I'm still just recovering from, in every good way possible. 

June molasses-crawled its way by leading up to us getting on a jet plane headed for a certain cluster of islands that is quite close to my heart. My little bro graduated from the only elementary school either of us has ever known, this little boy named Jamson who stole my heart at a concert found a Compassion sponsor and finally, finally - we headed for the airport.

Our time in the Philippines was simply a joy. While there were many somber moments reflecting on the life of my grandpa, we knew we had so much to celebrate because of the life he lived. We met our newest Compassion child, JD, and we were able to spend time with Florianlyn and Rechelle for a second time. We visited with family, saw the field work of two of our other favourite organizations, International Justice Mission and Habitat for Humanity Philippines, and just enjoyed the relaxed pace of the Philippines.

And then... the biggest example of unexpected, crazy grace in this year makes a quiet entrance: Would I like to be the host of Compassion Canada's youth curriculum video series on poverty, injustice, and what our response as Christians can and should be? 

Uh, yes. 

And trip #2 to the Philippines ensued... this time to do some filming for the curriculum with JD, his family, and community.

The fall was readjustment back into First World culture. I grappled lots with what I experienced in the Philippines over the summer. September also brought the beginning of my last year of high school and the domestic filming of the Compassion Canada curriculum (which was also named True Story: What God Wants Us To Do About Poverty in September!).

The rest of Fall has been typical, busy Fall: university applications, Freedom Creations, speaking and advocating at Compassion events, seeing True Story begin to come together, scholarship applications, youth group, school, friends, life. Just your not-really-that-normal 17-year-old's life. ;)

I am ending this year incredibly thankful for the beautiful ways my Creator worked throughout this year. Less truly became more only through Him, and I can only marvel at the grace He continually gives.

To all of you here in the blog-sphere... I know this blog was one place where "less" was really evident this year. But thank you for reading these words when I come up with them. As we ring in the new year, the blog-shpere community is one thing I will surely be thanking our Abba Father for. Your words of encouragement, inspiration and love are so, so, so valuable to me. Thank You.

May His love, joy & peace be yours in the coming New Year! 

When Oceans Rise

When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace. 

As one of the many airplanes that carried me back and forth over the Pacific this summer descended on the Philippines, these words poured through my earbuds - over the plane's whirring engines and the wailing baby 6 rows up.

Oceans became a little bit of a landing tradition. 

You see, many places in the Philippines have the most gorgeous landings.

Loading

Arriving in Cebu at sunset. Breathtakingly beautiful! #1000gifts #childhoodhome #latergram

View on Instagram

You come in over the ocean and as you peer out the window, it rises towards you and you don't quite see land until the landing gear is touching it.

So, I mean, I'm definitely not a nervous flyer (quite the opposite actually), but these landings can be a little nerve-wracking, too.

Talk about trust without borders.

And so it is with all beautiful things - they're also a little scary, a little nerve-wracking.

Beauty requires trust.

We sang Oceans at youth group last night - When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace.

And I'm right back on that plane.

And I'm standing right there again - the tide slowly rolling in and out, its calming rhythm keeping time to the words I'm speaking to a rolling camera and countless teens back home all at once.

Loading

Shooting the standup with @_godsgal4ever #standup #cebu #philippines #poverty #hope

View on Instagram

But this beach is no Sandals ad. A slum is sprawled out behind me, and the curious faces of the Filipino locals - mostly children - stare at me from beyond the camera. Four Canadians and an American with a camera is no daily occurrence, I guess.

Loading

#philippines

View on Instagram

The watermarks are just visible on the stilts of these childrens' homes behind me, and the day before when we had visited their homes, we're told that their homes will sometimes flood during high tide.

When oceans rise...

Loading

These adorable kids watched us film for two hours. #cebu #philippines

View on Instagram

Loading

#cebu #philippines

View on Instagram

And me? I'm just numb. 

The reality of it all comes at me in waves. 

When our team leader - what a blessing she is - leaned over to me in the van on the way back to the hotel and said, "It's hard not to become desensitized to all this. But I just constantly remember how very real this is. This is their lives."

And when later that night my sweet roommate and I realized that those kids were still there - they are still there - sleeping in those potentially flooded homes.

And most recently, the staggering reality of that place hits me at youth group. While singing Oceans.

The words leave my lips: When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace. For I am Yours, and You are mine.

I'm painfully aware of what I'm saying.

How easy is it for me to sing those words?

When oceans rise, my house doesn't flood. Plain and simple.

Of course my soul can rest - the floors of my home aren't soaked with those rising oceans.

Sure, I've got waves crashing at me but not quite as literally as those sweet Filipino children I met on that beach.

How is that fair?

I'm painfully aware that I'm angry.

I'm angry at my culture and my comfort zones and I'm angry at me.

Angry at how easily I'm able to sing those words and at how I so pathetically want need the comfort that allows me to easily sing those words.

Loading

View on Instagram

To be painfully blunt, I'm angry at how much I don't care once those Filipino children aren't right in front of me.

I'm angry at all the ways I don't want to change for the sake of justice, and oh man - isn't it an ugly world where I can sing a beautiful song about rising oceans while a Filipino family's greatest trouble is a rising ocean beneath their home?

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders.

Beauty requires trust.

And isn't that it? Those words I spoke on that beach to that rolling camera - the God we serve has a perfect plan to bring beauty to this ugly world.

All He asks of us is trust. 

He asks us to trust Him enough to say yes to our part in this plan, and that is all. That is our hope.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters, wherever You may call me. 

Yes, God. Wherever You may call me.

I trust You, for I know that beauty requires trust. 

And in a world where oceans rise into those Filipino homes and into my life, I trust You and I. say. yes.

When oceans rise -

My soul will rest in Your embrace. 

I Am Effie {Reflections on The Hunger Games: Catching Fire}

Saw The Hunger Games: Catching Fire over the Christmas Break and loved. it. Hoping it's better late then never for some reflection. Because this line from Effie? Man, did it kill me.

-

The tears welled up in her eyes and the heart-wrenching words escaped her lips.

"I am so sorry."

Effie the soiled veteran of the Capitol. She breaks.

I am Effie.

I spend my life working with some of society's most oppressed and impoverished.

Then, dressed in my expensive and extravagant clothes, I go back to my big, warm, safe house, eat a disgustingly big meal and fall asleep in my big, warm, safe bed.

And Effie, she's about to send her beloved victors back into the arena - back to the injustice she saved them from.

Back to the injustice millions face each day.

And she realizes something awful, terrible, horrible. This is all her fault.

Her addiction to the Capitol - the luxury, the extravagance, the everyday comfort - has fuelled a train of injustice until that train has barrelled right into her heart and broken her. 

The wealth that she probably didn't even choose to be saturated in, the wealth that she has learned to love so dearly, and the system called the Hunger Games that she believes in, heart and soul - this has fed the suffering and injustice of millions for years. and years. and years.

Seventy-five, to be exact.

It's here, in the midst of these awful, unfair, Quarter Quell 75th Games, that she realizes the horrible truth. This is all. her. fault.

And, with tears welling in her eyes - she is so sorry.

She is devastated, crushed, mortified.

Because while she wants to help her victors - while she is so sorry - she can't fathom giving up the Capitol. 

She is so sorry.

I am Effie.

I am so sorry.

Yet each day, I fuel the Capitol.

While I want to fight injustice, to love the least of these, sometimes I want the Capitol more. I can't fathom giving it up.

And, with tears welling in my eyes - I am so sorry.

Sitting in that theatre, each of Effie's mortified words to Katniss shoot straight into my heart, emphatically piercing my soul -

"I am so sorry."

That train, barreling right into my heart and breaking me.

I am Effie. The soiled veteran of the Capitol.

She breaks. 

And the only hope is that it is for the better.

In Too Deep

Minor face-lift around here... same old space, don't worry. :)

Oh, and ps: this becoming the all-time most-read post ever around here (by a long shot!)? Crazy. Blown away and thankful for grace. Praying that it touches and launches hearts into an extraordinary way of holding up the talented among us. 

Anyways - just some Jesus-thoughts for your soul around here today. In the dead of  a pretty dreary winter, lots of souls might need a little bit of comfort. 

Happy Monday!

-

Hey, child of the Most High? 

Sure - there are lots of reasons to stop believing.

But before you go, you precious, precious creation, contemplate this - there's something oddly comforting about Jesus being your only option.

Not your #1. But your only.

We sang it during worship last week - There is none besides You, God.

Yeah, I get it. Sometimes it seems like hope will never show.

But this. This -  

To whom shall we go?

I imagine Jesus' face, asking this question to his disciples: "You do not want to leave too, do you?"

Don't you think his face was just utter disappointment, accepted defeat, hopelessness? A sadness that says: I love you. I. Love. You. But I can just see you leaving this love behind.

Kind of like that boy in middle school - the one everyone roots for - that wears his heart on his sleeve and the girl still says no. C'mon - you know that face. 

Or like that girl in that book that says I love you. But this cancer in me will only hurt you and I accept that you'll go.

But the boy that she says that to? He goes Too late. I'm in too deep. To whom would I go?

And that's Jesus, here in this story - "You do not want to leave too, do you?" 

His face reflects a moment of sadness as he watches his bride run - run because his words are too much to handle; the prospect of this love is too much to grasp; the present pain too much to bear, even for an eternal love in the long run.

And Peter's response is as painfully real and profoundly comforting as it gets - "Master, to whom would we go? We've already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God."

We're in too deep, he says - and absolutely, positively, profoundly OK with that. Oddly and desperately comforted by it.

We know nothing else. We don't want to know anything else. And even if we did - we couldn't. Just couldn't.

Yeah, nothing holds us back, but for some strange reason, even if your head says go, your heart - somewhere deep in your subconscious - pulls you to stay.

Because you're in too deep and that is the most beautiful thing of all.

I know it sounds strange, but think about it and feel it.

This rhythm of grace, just let it overcome you. Let it be your life.

There is none besides You, God.

And for that - I am thankful.

Hold on, you wild, passionate, tired soul. Because I believe you can.

I believe you will.

Dear Justin Bieber -

source

"Mr. Bieber, you are charged with the following: DUI - alcohol or drugs, resisting without violence, and driving with an expired driver's licence." 

- Florida Judge Joseph P. Farina

Dear Justin,

After I finished watching the judge read you your charges, I clicked replay, tuned him out for this second time through, and just watched you.

And you just broke my heart.

Because we failed you.

I'm not at all a Belieber, sorry man. I don't claim to be even half as supportive of you as all those who have trended #WeWillAlwaysSupportYouJustin on Twitter for more than 24 hours now. I follow you and your sweet mom on Twitter and have a grand total of two JB songs in my iTunes, and that's about it.

But although I might not be a Belieber, somehow I always wanted to believe in you. 

And I still do.

I want to believe that this is the real you:

source

source

source

I think you saw it. What I saw. And I think you fell just as deeply in love with the Philippines last fall as I did two summers ago.

I think that moment you handed that boy that pencil or cradled that baby you felt it. That joy of being fully in sync with who you were created to be - a vulnerable human who simply loves other vulnerable humans.

That joy of reaching out - no million-dollar cars, no drugs, no drag races needed. All the fullness of life - any drug or fix or thrill you ever needed - was cradled in your arms, reaching for your gift of a pencil, or cradling your neck as you pulled her off that wooden porch and into your arms.

Justin - they're saying some nasty things about you out there. And yeah, let me tell you, you're an idiot. Your actions definitely need to be dealt with because DUI and street racing and weed is not cool or healthy or safe for anyone. Please try to be better.

But oh man, this is our fault too.

Congrats on being next on the long, long, long list of names that society ran in to rehab, jail, insanity, mental breakdown and loss of self-identity. Just in our lifetime, Justin, that list starts with a couple of girls named Lindsay and Britney and more recently continues with a girl named Miley and apparently, you.

We're so desperate to see you guys fall. So excited to see what crazy thing you're going to pull off next. Because we're just messed up like that. 

We live in a society where people who have extraordinary talent are destroyed in an average of 5 years flat.

You're pushed and pulled and expected to do superhuman things on a superhuman schedule and still stay perfectly put-together.

Why couldn't we just let you sing?

Why did we also have to read truth and lies about you in magazines? Why did we also have to chase you on the streets, take your picture, threaten your girlfriend and cover our bedroom walls with your face?

Why wasn't just listening to your music enough?

Why do you have to sacrifice yourself on the altar of Hollywood in order to share your God-given talents?

So I can't stand silent while people say that supporting you is terrible because you're a terrible person.

We're all terrible people. 

And I mean, I don't know about them, but I'd sure like to be supported even though I'm a terrible person. 

Justin - I believe in an amazing-grace Jesus who associates with terrible people. And I know you do too.

And not only does He associate with terrible people, He loves them. Believes in them.

Justin, I still want to believe in you. 

And I think if we all tried together, we could start to believe in the world, too - terrible as it is.

So let's try, shall we? In your very own words -

"Let's make the world better."

A Quiet Reminder for Your Monday Morning

I only know as much of their stories as I can piece together from my seat in the corner, but the more I listen and watch this odd group, the more I realize they do have someplace to be. 

It’s here, at this coffee shop. 

This is their place to be. 

- Emily P. Freeman  

I read this and it really could be that revolutionarily simple.

In a million-mile-an-hour world, where we're always thinking of the next kajillion things to do before bed, maybe our place to be is just in the coffee shop.

Maybe "where you need to be right now" is right where you are.

"What you need to be doing right now" is what you're doing right this very second.

"Who you need to be" is exactly who you are - beloved.

Be. loved.

That's all.

Don't think about what you need to be doing next, where you need to be, who you wish you were - be here. Right here. 

Where. you. are.

Because in all this cosmos the Creator of it all loves you deeply. passionately. unconditionally. right where you are.

So really seriously - no matter what - make sure you stop at the coffee shop regularly to tell your stories and listen to others'.

In the end, the only thing you need to be doing right now?

Be loved by the Creator of the universe.

The rest flows out of that.

3 Things I Learned From Temporarily Losing My Vision

I am the queen of the accidental blog break. Ha.

This time though, I had a little bit of an excuse...

Two weeks and one day ago, while eating breakfast and getting ready to leave for church, the top half of my vision in my right eye suddenly went grey.

I blinked. I blinked again, hoping it was just something in my eye. I shut my eyes and opened them again, but I could still only see my brother across the kitchen table from his nose down.

So I said, "Guys, I'm being so serious right now, I can't see out of the top half of my right eye."

My family didn't take me seriously at first. I feel like that says something about my sarcasm. ;)

But from the worried look on my face they decided to take me seriously.

Off to the ER we went. My vision slowly restored, and two hours later I could see perfectly fine.

Since, I've been diagnosed with what's called an ocular migraine. I had dull headaches for about a week/week and a half after.

At the ER!

Dr. Mom (with help from Dr. Google) helped me identify migraine triggers, which explains my blog break - too much screen time is a migraine trigger. So, I did almost zero screen time for a few days, and I'm still trying to keep it less than what it was for the first half of summer.

So, here's the deal. In those moments - especially the first few - in which I had no idea what was going on, I was scared to bits. Honest truth.

With no idea what's going on, guesses like this run through your head - detached retina, blood clot, brain tumour, nerve damage, I'm going blind, and other scary things involving surgery/lots of medical treatment/crazy life change... 

And this is what I was reminded of: In those crazy I-don't-know-what's-going-on moments, we have a choice: fear or faith. 

And here's me admitting that I choose fear far too often. My best moments that crazy morning were the moments I chose faith.

My best moments all week? [When doctors say a migraine diagnosis isn't really definite because you just kind-of rule out other really unlikely things and the headaches aren't going away and maybe an MRI?] My best moments were when I chose faith. 

And I realize that that choice isn't just for the crazy moments. That fear-or-faith choice is for each day waking up - fear or faith?

You don't need the possibility of a serious health problem to have that choice.

Wake up and there it is: Fear that today goes terrible or faith that He has a plan?

Not just some theoretical, "someday" plan. A plan for today. A purpose for this exact day that He has made. 

And that brings me to something else. What if his plan was for me to become blind?

No really - serious question. What if he called me to serve Him without my sight?

Would I say yes?

I said it to my mom later in the week - "I hope if God called me to be blind, I'd be ok with that."

Not just ok, though. I hope my lips would praise Him still, and my life would continue to be His.

Because everything we have is only because of Him.

And how quickly He could take it all away - really.

But our loving God - he doesn't.

He gives. Continually, He gives us only His best.

Because - the biggest thing I was reminded of through all this:

All is grace. All.

-

ps Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who kept me in their prayers through all this. So thankful for you all.❤

The Gun Thing, The Race Thing, And The Broken World Thing {3 Thoughts On Trayvon and Zimmerman}

We expected the court to sort this out?

Yeah, I most definitely believe in the court, but riding so much on a verdict has me thinking we might've believed too much in the court this time.

Because the court can sort out charges and evidence and jail time.

But it can't sort out years of racial tensions and pain deeper than one teenager dead.

The pain here runs deep - deep into blood-soaked, hard-worked soil and unforgiving, bitter hearts. 

And the court deals with law. And let's agree on one thing - there's no laws when it comes to pain this deep.

We can say all we want about the verdict given to George Zimmerman.

But really, this is messier than anything guilty or not guilty can clean up.

And with that said, my twitter stayed silent on Saturday night.

Not because I didn't care, but because I wasn't sure how a series of 140 character statements could sort out the mess any more than that Florida court could, nor did I trust myself to say anything worthwhile.

But you know me, I can't stay silent.

This blog post isn't going to sort anything out either. This is just a teenage girl picking out bits from the messiness and trying to at least come up with something.

Here it goes.

The Gun Thing

If George #Zimmerman had not had a gun, he'd have never got out of his car that night, and Trayvon Martin would still be alive.
— Piers Morgan (@piersmorgan) July 14, 2013

And it's as simple as that.

There might've been a fist fight. And the whole thing would've ended in a night at a hospital (at worst), not in a court, a morgue and international news.

Everyone's speaking out about race (and yes, definitely - more on that in a sec), but what about the gun thing?

Here's the thing - 6,198 gun deaths have occurred in America since Sandy Hook. In just 7 short months. [That link is a must see - it very clearly paints the grim picture.]

I feel like society should be more disturbed by this. 

The fact of the matter is, it was legal for Zimmerman to have that gun, and from the picture presented to the court, it was legal for him to use it.

Don't be angry that Zimmerman got acquitted for shooting and killing Trayvon, be angry that the law allowed it.

Perhaps the jury thought the same as me and you - it shouldn't be ok for someone to kill another someone. But the laws don't agree and that's what I think we're all really angry about here.

The laws of America love the right to bear arms. Don't be upset that Zimmerman got acquitted if you're also in love with the right to bear arms.

It's contradictory.

Mr. Piers Morgan tweeted some brilliance yesterday, and allow me to share a bit more of that with you as I close out this gun talk:

I don't criticise the jury - I criticise the law that enabled them to find George #Zimmerman not guilty of anything. #RIPTrayvon
— Piers Morgan (@piersmorgan) July 14, 2013

Until Americans stand up and shout 'ENOUGH!' re guns, the senseless slaughter will just go on, and on, and on. #Trayvon #Newtown #Aurora
— Piers Morgan (@piersmorgan) July 14, 2013

The Race Thing

Let me tell you a story.

I was once shooting hoops out on the driveway by myself, when our next-door neighbour stepped outside, preparing to leave in his car. We small talked for a bit then he stepped in his car and started the engine, me assuming he was going to drive off. I turned back to the basketball net, only to spot a friend of mine walking up the street with a group of his friends.

I waved, chatted with him for a bit, let him take a few shots, and then he continued his walk down the street. Only when he left did I notice my neighbour still sitting there in his running car. He'd watched the whole 2 or 3 minute exchange. "Do you know those guys?" He asked, once they were out of earshot.

"Yeah," I said, "We go to school together."

"Oh, good." He said, and drove away.

Here's what I left out of my story: race. 

My neighbour is white, living in a primarily white community. My friend and his whole group? They're all black.

Now, my neighbour is good person. A normal person. He has a toddling daughter and I appreciate him looking out for me. I know he didn't mean to racially profile my friend. But he did. It happens, in real life, to everyone. 

But what if this - what if we were all part of the Jesus-culture first, then race was just one of the many things that makes us the diverse Body of Christ?

That, to me, is the ideal. Not for everyone to be treated the same, but for everyone to be able to bring their different gifts, personalities and traits, race being one of those beautiful things, to the Body of Christ and use those things to advance his Kingdom.

And that's all great stuff, and it starts with stuff like this -

for whites to stop assuming that black people are criminals;

for blacks to stop assuming that white people are out to get them;

for every race - red, yellow, black, brown, white - to stop defending the colour of their skin, and start defending who they are in Jesus.

I'm not calling for colour blind here - I am the biggest believer in embracing your race and all the beauty that comes from that part of your identity.

I'm calling for a safe place where everyone gets to do just that - embrace the beauty of their race without feeling that they have to defend it or have it rise above another.

The We-Live-In-A-Broken-World Thing

We could say gun laws killed Trayvon Martin. We could say racism killed him.

But in the end brokenness killed him. Humans' sinful nature killed him.

We lived in a broken, screwed up world where injustice happens. Everyday.

And all Christ-followers can do is try as spread as much light into the world as possible - despite our own human nature.

We sang it at church yesterday - Your light will shine when all else fades.

But a lot of that depends on us, because we are His image-bearers on this earth.

Through us is where His light will shine through when all else fades.

And we have a choice in how we respond to all this mess. We can respond in anger, or we can respond in love. 

We can burn in anger or we can overflow with love.

Yeah, not only the Zimmerman case, but the whole wide world is filled with deep pain and a whole lot of messiness.

But if there's one thing I know for sure, it's this -

Love can cover a multitude of pain, hurts, and messiness.

Damaged

I don't think I'll ever be able to start summer without thinking of the Philippines.

Without flipping through photos and clicking back to "July 2011" on my blog and Facebook timeline.

Without remembering the girl who stepped on a plane two summers ago with big expectations and the girl who stepped off three weeks later - changed for life. 

Broken.

Gradually, I'm understanding a little more of what it means to be broken.

I think damaged might be another word to describe it.

Damaged to the first world, no longer able to function properly as a first world citizen is supposed to.

Because I'm no longer able to enjoy a Tall Vanilla Bean Frappuccino without feeling guilty - and it has nothing to do with my weight or health.

Because while my friends soak in one of the most expensive streets in the city, I feel sick at jokes about gold-plated toilets, I pass on the Starbucks and buy a homeless lady an afternoon snack instead.

Because while teachers and classmates tell me my grades say I should be a doctor or lawyer for the six figures, I want to be a lawyer or social worker to help the least of these - who most likely won't be paying six figures.

Because I pass on Secret Santa, don't use the word starving, and I can't turn the advocate in me off - I'm forever talking to my friends about poverty and human trafficking.

I see it in my family too - my parents choose carpet over hardwood when hardwood is definitely the way to go nowadays. My brother forgoes buying another cube - while the normal first world boy wouldn't think twice about putting down the fifteen dollars for the puzzle, even his second or third or tenth one.

Yet I still have a long way to go. 

Because while I can't enjoy the Frapp without guilt - I still enjoy it.

While I felt uncomfortable on the most expensive street in the city - I was still on it.

While I don't want a six figure job, some days I reason that God gave me the gift of ninety-something grades for a reason, and if I earned six figures I'd give it all away (from the comfort of my home which matches my job, of course).

While I weave social justice into my conversations, more often I'm talking about crazy teachers, funny YouTube videos, summer plans, TV shows, and the latest on social media.

And some days, I'd rather be the girl who doesn't know about the other side.

I'd be excused, then. If I don't know, how could you expect me to care? If I have no clue about the poverty on the other side of this palace gate, how could you expect me to know to open the gate?

Yet I do know. And I want to know. I'm blessed to know.

Because broken is the most blessed you can be.

But while I strive to travel back to the places where I found this beautiful brokenness, sometimes I strive for comfort more.

Yet I read Ann Voskamp's words and she transports me to Uganda, Africa and here I am reading about a girl who eats bugs. And I cried. And right there I wanted to fly to Africa and feed her and every other child who is eating bugs.

Two hours later I'm chopping strawberries for the freezer. I picked the next piece of fruit from the basket, turned it over and discovered a spider.

And yes, I freaked out.

I screamed to informed my mom, ran for a paper towel, squished it - all the while freaking out.

Then I sat down to continue my work and all I could think was Ann's sponsored child eats bugs. Ann's sponsored child eats bugs. Ann's sponsored child eats bugs.

And I couldn't deal with it. I cried reading about a girl who ate bugs, and two hours later I freaked out over a small spider on a strawberry.

What?

And then there's Katie. The girl who quit university to welcome orphans into her arms.

Where's the balance between that and "being responsible and thinking of your future"? Yet aren't Christ-followers called to not worry about tomorrow? 

And what about seven years of university to be a lawyer who frees captives, releases prisoners from darkness, and rebuilds ancient ruins for the display of His splendour? But couldn't the cost of law school feed a whole lot of bug-eating Ugandan children?

I don't have answers. But I know a few things.

Broken is the most blessed you could be.

And chasing Jesus is always the way to go.

And if he runs to Africa, I suppose I chase him there. If he runs to law school, I'm gonna have to chase him there.

Just like how my family and I chased him to the Philippines two years ago... look where that brought us.

Damaged... and so thankful.

Love is complicated and the simplest thing in the world. And that is all there is. 

-Ann Voskamp 

Dear Goodbye {3 Things You Need To Know About Goodbye}

{In a season of graduations, summer moves and goodbyes.}

Dear Goodbye,

You should know, I have a really big dislike of you.

It's not really your fault - I mean, you're just a word, right?

But you're more than just that. Somehow whenever you're around this ache starts in my chest and most times swells in my throat and ends up as tears.

And when I see you lurking around in the corners, coming near, it makes me wanna just tell time to stop please.

Because as you come nearer, Goodbye, people I love get farther.

But guess what, Goodbye? I'm finding some not-so-bad - even good - things about you.

You bring change. And change isn't always so bad.

I said it at small group just a few months ago - being comfortable is never good. If you're getting a little too comfortable, maybe it's time for a change. Because Jesus isn't about comfortable.

And sometimes - not always, but sometimes - you're the change needed, Goodbye.

Change means growth. Change means new, exciting things. And although change is tough, it makes people stronger.

Another thing, goodbye? Sometimes you bring people closer.

In the light of you, we seize the moment and spend as much time as possible with our soon-to-be departures.

And the people still around? I'm reminded how much they mean to me. Because I'm reminded how fast you come and take them away.

I don't who said it, but it's so true: Sometimes you don't know the value of what you have until you lose it.

The last thing, Goodbye, and maybe the most beautiful good thing about you? You remind me how excited I should be for heaven.

Because one day, Goodbye, I'll get to say goodbye to you. 

And that's one goodbye I'm very much looking forward to.

One day, I'll get to spend eternity with all my brothers and sisters in the presence of our Father, and the grief and sadness you cause won't exist.

Dear Goodbye, you suck.

But you're a part of life. And like most everything, Jesus makes you better. 

Because the beautiful thing about Body of Christ goodbyes is that they are never permanent.

And for that, I am thankful.

'Til we meet again, Goodbye.

The Beauty Of Our God

When's the last time you just sat in awe at the beauty of our God?

Do it.

This past weekend I went on a retreat with my youth group, and what I'm taking home isn't the crazy games, hilarity or even the teaching.

What I loved most about the weekend was just being - together, brothers and sisters in Christ, His children, family.

Arms raised or around each other, hearts worshiping our beautiful Saviour and loving each other, souls basking in the presence of our Abba Father.

Ever so often, we all need a little taste of heaven on earth. We all need to be reminded of the beauty of our Lord.

Because we come home and we're tossed right back into the brokenness of our world.

And this world is not our home but we're here to be His image bearers and we're failing because that's what we humans do.

And here's what we can do -

we do our most very best to be the best image bearers possible.

Then we just wait patiently and in eager anticipation for our Lord because really - He knows what He's doing.

And one day we'll get to spend forever basking in the presence of out Abba Father as His children.

How beautiful is that?

For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. Romans 8:19-21