Man, the days go by quick. So quick.
I can’t believe that it was over a month ago now that I sat in my last coffee shop in Nicaragua. Over a month ago that I gave my last goodbye hugs. It seems almost insane, actually.
Another life, seemingly.
It feels a little like this past month has been a boot camp, trying to integrate these two lives. One fast, one slow. One filled with one group of friends, people I love, all living far far away. And another filled with family and friends and a beautiful life, ready to step into. Calling me back.
But I’m not back. I didn’t go and return.
I’m in a new place.
I’m made new, really.
And figuring that out has been hard.
Suddenly all of my relationships have a new dynamic to them that doesn’t quite make sense. And the plans and dreams that I had solo on the Race, have complications now. They’re still my dreams and plans, but now I have real life, walking attachments and emotions fogging stuff up. I’m changed and that was the goal the whole time, but, goodness, change is hard.
So I’ve spent a lot of time being quiet, a lot of time crying and facing and growing, and a lot of time avoiding. If I talk to Jesus while rotating through those three, then I notice I get a lot done. It’s been working out.
Amidst all of that, Jesus and I have had a lot of talks about the future. On the Race, he grew my heart a ton for various different things and all of them, I know, have a place in my future.
For instance, I keep going back to what it was like to rub 10 year old Sita’s back as she fell asleep during the Shabbat Shalom party in Nepal. She had just been pulled off the street. In the blink of an eye, saved from being trafficked. I’ll never forget the gravity of that moment.
God knows it too. He’s got me not forgetting, he’s asked me to help the oppressed and the persecuted. When I’ve prayed, He’s continued to speak about discipling women.
I can’t forget the way He spoke to my heart and asked me to lead. Not just a team, but friends and leaders and women and men and all the people. He changed the way I understood myself. He tore down lies that I had allowed speak truth. He built me back up again, and time and time again called me to a higher place than I was comfortable.
Before the Race, I hated being in front of people, speaking, singing, performing. I can’t say that I love it now, but I can say that I’m letting Him take the reins. I’m letting Him use me and I’ve stopped limiting Him because I’m scared.
So now, God’s calling me into leadership and influence. And it’s no change. He started nudging my heart before I even left.
The difference, though?
For the past year, I’ve listened to the nudges. I haven’t shrugged them off and called it humility. So now, there’s always another nudge coming. It’s pretty tough and vulnerable and holy uncomfortable.
Listening to Him hasn’t gotten more comfortable, but it has gotten easier.
Recently, He called me into a higher level of purity. Let me explain. It’s being more careful about what I allow into my mind and out of my mouth.
And it’s all for the sake of influence and leadership. However, my humanity hates it. It makes me feel distant from people. And when I’m not talking to my Father, it can make me feel alone.
But there are unbelievable rewards.
Sure, in Heaven. But also here. God knows my heart. All the crazy. He knows how I feel when I get to see someone brought to their knees, crying and healed by Him. And so holy cow does He let me see it.
Listening to Him, following Him, and really honestly trusting that He knows me better than I know me. Gosh, it has me in awe. I get to see things, have my hand in people’s lives in a way that I never imagined I would.
As I’ve pursued the Father about what’s next for me, He’s made a few things abundantly clear:
- I’ll be leading and influencing in a way that’s uncomfortable for me.
- I’ll be discipling people: 1. in therapy and 2. women coming out of sex trafficking
- I’ll be asked to live a life of greater purity.
This past week, I went to Portland. I had never been to Portland. I knew nothing about Portland except it was green and I like green trees and green grass. Oh, and that a church called Bridgetown (used to be Solid Rock: A Jesus Church) was there.
But I went to talk to God.
Because about 10 months ago, while in India, my Father said, ‘Christi, you’re moving to Portland.’
And after I cried, I avoided it. You know, just like I said earlier (see paragraph, like, 6). But eventually I asked again. And again. And again. And God confirmed it. And he started saying the name of that church. And I asked again. And again. And again again. And God confirmed it.
So I went. And I prayed A LOT. And I went to that church. And, gosh, you know the story because you know our God. He confirmed it.
He had two men I don’t know, pray over me and tell me things that God had been telling me for months. They confirmed it.
And a woman I never met, an incredible pastor at this church, spoke things about this church that I hadn’t know, but God knew. Things that the Lord had been working on and pairing together in me and this place, for all sorts of good.
So here’s the deal friends, I’m moving to Portland. I’m doing the three things above. I’m doing something big with Bridgetown church and I know NONE of the details.
And I’m an ESFP (Meyers-Briggs type), so I don’t know about future life planning and I’m horrible at budgeting. So, naturally, I don’t think about logistics or money until I know NONE of the details of life. And then I freak out.
But I know Him. And so even though I don’t know the details. I don’t know logistical stuff or timing or provision or where Murph’s and my future home is. I know I’m supposed to announce His goodness from every rooftop and trust Him along the way to do exactly everything.
And He will.
In a way that amazes me and hopefully most of you.
Thanks for following me along this journey. Thanks for supporting me and praying. Thanks for reading today and understanding that it’s not over. Maybe I kind of hope it never is. This journey of being better, loving fiercely, and being braver every day than I was the one before.
Yep. Definitely.
Here we go.
Let’s all be brave.
