Before I even start, I just want to say thank you for reading my blogs. This space is where I truly share my heart.
So thank you for reading, thank you for following, thank you for praying, and thank you for believing with me that the next 11 months will be filled with grace, love, brokenness, moments of selfishness, forgiveness, redemption, reconciliation, and knowing the Lord deeper through learning more about his character every day.
With every blog post comes the fear of what people will think, the fear of what others will say.
What if someone who experienced the ‘Hannah’ that didn’t know Jesus reads this?
Will they think I’m hypocritical? How can I do justice to the change the Lord brought to my life?
Is my writing good enough? Honest enough? Too honest?
This blog specifically brings those doubtful questions (and more) as I write.
My prayer is that the people reading, who unfortunately experienced the brokenness and repercussions of sin in my life before I allowed Jesus in to heal me, would see the change in my heart and yearn to know the Father of Love who reconciled my heart and changed my life.
Revelation 12:11 says, “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.”
We have conquered over the enemy – first and primarily because of what Jesus did, and secondly through the act of sharing our testimony.
At training camp, one of the leaders said, “you are the only person that can share your testimony.”
This may seem obvious, but it seriously rocked my world.
No one else can account for the ways I have seen the Lord move.
No one else can testify to the ways I have watched the Lord heal, shift hearts, and change lives.
My account – my testimony – is mine!
I am going to share it!
The details I share here are what led me to the World Race, and to surrendering a year of my life, and the rest of my life beyond that, to Jesus.
And YOUR testimony is YOURS.
So, before I share mine, I pray the Lord would shift your heart to see the life change and encourage you to share yours as well. No one has a testimony like yours.
I grew up in the church.
This is a pretty common thing people say, but I grew up in the church in a little bit of a different way.
I grew up front row, listening to my dad speak on stage.
That’s right, preacher’s kid, and yes, we are the worst.
My entire life, if you had asked, “are you a Christian,” my response would have probably been a prideful variation of “yes, my dad is a pastor.”
My family grew up in a suburb called Murfreesboro, Tennessee, right outside of Nashville.
Gosh, I miss that place.
Tennessee will forever hold a special place in my heart.
So, we lived in Tennessee, my dad pastored a church, and my mom was having kids left and right. Seriously, she has 6. (I will probably do a blog detailing my siblings at some point, because they are truly a foundational reason I am so passionate about people and loving individuals well.)
Anyways, we lived in a cute lil’ house in a cute lil’ neighborhood with cute lil’ neighbors and life was good.
When I think about my childhood, I think cookie cutter. Not because of any specific memories, but because my parents sheltered us from any brokenness – with the best intentions.
They wanted us to experience life to the full. How beautiful is that? Home was a safe place where we laughed, smiled, and we were a good preachers’ family. (right?)
When I was headed into my 5th grade school year, my parents told us we were moving to North Carolina. To be totally honest, I don’t remember this conversation much, but I do remember sitting in the parking lot of our favorite Mexican restaurant and hugging the family that we were closest with, crying because we didn’t want to leave.
We upped and moved to North Carolina, and we started a new life (dramatic, not sorry).
North Carolina was fine. Not great. Not terrible.
We first moved to Greensboro, and my dad was unemployed. It was a weird time. I remember Dad being home a lot, searching for jobs, and mom taking classes in another city to become a massage therapist.
I also have a vivid memory of Tyler Hansborough breaking his nose while we were watching the UNC-Duke game. Weird.
Fast forward 9 months or so, and Dad found a job in a little town called Valdese, North Carolina.
We drove to Valdese to check it out and meet the people at the church where he was interviewing. I remember laughing with my siblings because Valdese was (and still is) SO SMALL.
I mean, we had lived outside of Nashville, then in Greensboro, and now we are moving to a town with a couple stop lights. Country songs are honest, y’all.
We moved to Valdese, and we started a life there. Again.
Dad loved his job, we were getting used to our new school, and we lived in a cute lil’ house in a cute lil’ neighborhood with cute lil’ neighbors. Again. I led worship at a church with my dad; we sang together almost every Sunday.
We came home one day after school, and my parents sat us (the three oldest) down in the living room.
They proceeded to tell us that they were getting a separation.
I will never forget this night. I don’t have many memories other than our facial expressions, a lot of tears, and the few hours spent in my brother’s room after they broke the news.
My parents, growing up, coined the phrase “divorce is not an option”.
This was something they typically said when we, as curious children, had questions about what life would look like if they decided to split.
So, to say we were confused is an understatement. I wrote a little bit in a previous blog about divorce and what it does to the heart of a child.
Divorce is heavy. Confusing. Hard. Frightening. It’s just a whole heck of a lot.
I want to say those for those reading that have experienced divorce from any vantage point, I do not blame you or think you did anything wrong – I believe the brokenness of this world, and the sin humans brought into it, has affected marriage and the way God intended it to be. I’m so sorry if you have walked through this as well.
Because of the brokenness in the home, because of the confusion, the arguments, I wanted to lift the weight of the brokenness. I wanted to help fix it in some way.
From this point on in my life, I sought ways to be “good”.
A “good” daughter.
A “good” sister.
A “good” Christian.
A “good” athlete.
A “good” student.
A “good” girlfriend.
A “good” friend.
Life was a formula, as was Christianity.
Well if I just clean my room, make my bed, do my own laundry, pack my lunch, and get ready on time, I will be a good daughter.
If I work out every day, maintain my weight, practice my technique, and always listen to the coach, I will be a good athlete.
If I ask good questions, listen well, and take neat notes, I will be a good student.
If I listen intently, spend time with him/her every week, and care about the details of their life, I will be a good friend.
If I raise my hands in worship, listen during the sermon, pray before bed and meals, and post bible verses once a week, I will be a good Christian.
There is so much brokenness in this. Emptiness. A life fulfilled from the outside looking in and broken and sad from the inside looking out.
I carried this with me into high school, and my search for ‘life’ went so much deeper.
I saw so much brokenness in relationships and in how I looked for ‘life’.
There was a type of worldly fulfillment that came from a compliment, another pound lost, a flirty look.
So, I chased this.
Again, I want to pause and just say — if you were the victim of these broken and sinful choices, I pray you see the reconciliation in my heart and know that I am so incredibly sorry it affected you.
I apologize not because I feel like I have to, but because I know how weighty and hard it is to be around someone convinced they aren’t enough and constantly fighting to feel like they are.
I was that girl. And now I seek out those girls; I yearn to speak life and love into them, so they see their true worth.
High school and even my first couple semesters of college were filled with instances where I sought fulfillment from relationships, specifically romantic ones.
I was always in a relationship. But I was never happy. Or content. Or fulfilled.
I may have experienced moments where I felt infatuated and romanced, but it wasn’t sustaining.
The Lord brought me into a season of isolation my second semester of sophomore year.
I wasn’t involved in a healthy community.
I wasn’t healthily involved in a church where I invested well or for the right reasons.
I worked a lot and didn’t care to extend myself into other activities outside of work and school.
I wasn’t dating anyone, and I felt alone.
Here’s the good news, the Lord met me there.
I used to have ‘dates with Jesus.’ I know, it sounds cheesy, but when you have never experienced what it means to be romanced by a God-love that wrecks every idea of relationship built throughout life, this is powerful. I was merely infatuated by who Jesus was before this, and Jesus brought me abruptly into his arms and said, “you are mine.”
My infatuation turned into relationship, and I knew Jesus differently.
I began to read scripture, like truly read it, for the first time.
(As a preacher’s daughter, you get gifted bibles all the time, but I never read them outside of taking good notes on Sunday).
So, for about 5 months, I spent every minute I could with Jesus. It was the only place I felt loved. It was the only place I felt sufficient. It was the only place I knew I belonged.
It was a place where I knew that I wasn’t “good”, and I didn’t have to be, because there was and is a good, good Father who was good for me, and stood in my place.
I started to see life.
I used to walk in a room and immediately search for someone that would give me attention.
I walked into rooms and started seeing beautiful things – deep conversations, joy and laughter, competitive spirits, community.
I walked into rooms and saw people for who they were, not what they could offer my broken spirit.
I went on a journey with Jesus where He exposed me to the depth of the love He had and continues to have for me.
THERE IS LIFE. With Jesus. LIFE to the full.
There are so many details I left out, because of length and time. If you are curious, ask me more!!! I will gladly tell you the gruesome details of the brokenness I experienced, because it makes the redemption THAT MUCH sweeter.
FAST FORWARD to training camp.
One day during training camp, we had what was called a ‘gender retreat’.
The leadership talked to us about empowering one another, and how we should be defined by the way we love each other instead of comparing ourselves.
There was one specific session that really wrecked me. I will do a separate blog on the details of this, because it is SO GOOD and worth sharing, but the idea of the session was to address the guilt and shame we had in our life.
Again, I can be prideful, so my immediate reaction was “I don’t have any shame.”
I realized that I had been picking up shame in life every time I felt insufficient.
I picked up shame when I felt like I wasn’t a good enough volleyball player, a good enough daughter, a good enough sister, a good enough student, a good enough Christian, a good enough…
The Lord gave me a vision immediately, and He told me to draw it.
So, I did.
The vision was of me, worshiping at the feet of Jesus, and Jesus was blocking out two walls that were closing in on me yelling “YOU’RE TOO MUCH” and “YOU’RE NOT ENOUGH”. He was speaking words of life, “you are loved,” “you are mine,” “you are exactly who I created you to be.”
WHOA. Revelation!!!
I had been living under these two lies, separately and simultaneously, for my whole life!!
I was in a constant balance game, feeling like I wasn’t enough (and had to do things to make up for it), and feeling like I was too much (and that my personality needed to be toned down to be acceptable and bearable).
I realized that I had picked up shame every time I felt like Hannah Norris wasn’t enough for the need at hand.
I picked up shame every time I felt like Hannah Norris had a laugh that was too loud, a voice that was too honest, or opinions that were too bold.
And in this moment, Jesus said, “give it to me.”
He gladly and lovingly took my shame and replaced it with grace. He swept me off my feet and reminded me how truly loved and cherished I am in His heavenly realm. He has a home for me there, one that is waiting for the day I walk through the pearly gates.
I will hear the words, “well done, my good and faithful servant.”
Friend – I know now that the hurt, discontentment, tears, anger and brokenness of this world will be lovingly wiped away by a good, good Father who loves us. He will replace those hurts with joy, peace, endless gratitude, smiles, and complete satisfaction in His presence.
Amen and amen.
F I N A N C I A L U P D A T E / R E Q U E S T S
Since my most recent blog post, I have raised almost $2,000! Wow!! Thank you so much for believing that the mission of God is worth it. I am humbled at your generosity.
I am still believing and praying for 10 more people to donate 100 dollars before September 20th. Would you be one of the 10 I am praying for?
S P I R I T U A L U P D A T E / R E Q U E S T S
The Lord has been so gracious in giving me peace and calm in my heart over the past week.
The closer I get to leaving, the harder it becomes to choose to stay emotionally present. It becomes harder to engage in conversations about leaving. It is scarier that people will feel pain and hurt, and I won’t be here to comfort them.
I am trusting the Great Comforter more and more by the second.
He continues to comfort my fears and is endlessly comforting the friends around me in the midst of hurt, reminding me that I am merely a vessel and He will use me for seasons and will continue to call me – this season, my call is the World Race. Praise Him for that.
I would love prayers for:
– Peace amongst the chaotic details that can come with moving and packing.
– Emotional devotion to the people and places God has me until I leave.
– Continued faithfulness in my quiet times and in seeking Him.
– Continued consistency in blogging and writing down the ideas He lays on my heart.
– Financial, spiritual, and physical provision as I prepare to leave.
I love y’all so much. The encouragement I get when I share blogs gives me life and reason to continue to talk about what Jesus has done, and is doing, in my life.
Thank you for reading, truly.
All my love,
Hannah
