I want to tell you the truth.
I want to tell you the WHOLE truth.
Before I explain myself, let’s back this blog post up to World Race training camp.
I spent ten wild, exhausting, and wonderful days on a campground in Georgia.
Our days were filled with trips to the port-a-potties and bucket showers, minimal clothing changes, “interesting” meals, training scenarios (i.e if this thing happens to you while you’re overseas, what will you do?!), a fitness hike, squad team building, ministry time, and informational sessions.
Our nights were filled with powerful prayer and worship, squad wars (we won!), starry skies, and cold, occasionally-wet camping.
Those ten days were filled with so many wonderful moments which I could share with you, but the moment I want to share with you right now is a moment in which I was very frustrated.
During training camp, we had an informational session on storytelling.
If you have known me any time at all, you know that storytelling is one of my favorite things, as I believe that the exchange of a story between people is powerful–so powerful that it could change a person’s life.
With that being said, storytelling is one of the things I’m most looking forward to about the World Race. I’m so excited that I have the opportunity to spend eleven months sharing the stories of the beautiful people I encounter, beautiful places I visit, and beautiful displays of God’s love and power around the world with my people back home because I really believe that these stories are going to put faith in people’s hearts and change lives.
Therefore, I was really excited about an entire session dedicated to storytelling until we were asked the following question:
“What is it that would keep you from sharing your stories?”
Ughhhhhhhh.
I didn’t have to think twice, as my frustration crashed over me.
Fear.
More specifically, the fear of what people will think of me in regards to my belief system, the intensity of my faith, and my experiences with Christ.
* * *
Ten years ago, I was a bold, unashamed-of-my-faith teenager.
I recently found some high school journal entries, and, as I read my musings, I made a few mental notes:
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My sixteen-year-old self was so insightful about the lessons that God was teaching her.
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I strived to live out my faith in words AND actions at all times in order to reflect the love and goodness of Jesus to my classmates and teachers.
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I wasn’t forceful with my faith, but I didn’t shy away from sharing the unfiltered fullness of God with others.
Many of those things remain the same today, but one of those things changed:
I do shy away from sharing the unfiltered fullness of God with others.
* * *
Over the years, I have bought into much of the rhetoric of modern-day America.
Don’t get me wrong–much of this rhetoric has brought about great awareness and action.
But in my efforts to be loving, kind, compassionate, and respectful, I have become hypersensitive to not offending people and keeping the peace.
And somewhere in the mix, I lost my voice.
I would listen to everyone else’s truth, but I stopped sharing my own Truth.
I began sharing filtered versions of my belief system, the intensity of my faith, and my experiences with Christ in order to avoid a conflict in beliefs.
And that frustrates me so much.
Because I see God moving and doing big, crazy, beautiful, supernatural things all the time, and if you knew these things, they would change your life, but I’ve resorted to a filtered version of God to keep everyone comfortable.
I’ll tell you that God is good, but will I tell you why He is good?
Will I tell you about the prayers He has answered? Will I tell you about the times that He has proven that He sees me and knows me, often using strangers to speak detailed pieces of encouragement (things which they could not have known without the Holy Spirit) into my life.
I’ll tell you that God offers freedom, but will I tell you about my experiences with true freedom?
Will I tell you the life-giving stories of myself and others giving things to Christ and accepting the freedom that only He can bring?
I’ll tell you that God delivers, but will I tell you stories of deliverance?
Will I tell you about the night that the Lord broke the chains of jealousy that had bound me for ten years? After ten years of struggling, nearly-destroying many relationships, and trying to overcome things on my own, I cried out to God, begging for Him to intervene in this situation (and maybe even telling Him that I wouldn’t leave the church altar until I received deliverance). That night, I felt the weight of jealousy lifted from my life.
I’ll tell you that God provides, but will I tell you stories of His provision?
Will I tell you about how He has miraculously provided in my finances time-and-time again, as I continue to trust Him with my money? Will I tell you about the time that I felt the Lord telling me to ask an organization for a very large refund after a bit of miscommunication, and I almost ignored Him because it sounded like a crazy request, but when I obeyed (after a lot of prayer), they gave me a refund beyond what I requested.
I’ll tell you that God protects, but will I tell you stories of the times He has protected me?
Will I tell you about the time that I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I cried out to Jesus (in my head, so as not to draw attention) to protect me and get me out of that place, and He put a nearly-tangible hedge-of-protection around me and then sent the closest thing to an angel-on-earth that I’ve ever experienced to direct me out of that place.
I’ll tell you that God heals, but will I tell you stories of healing?
Will I tell you about the time that a back injury I had for a year-and-a-half was instantaneously healed through prayer? Or the other times I have been healed as the result of prayer? Will I tell you about the times that God has used me to pray for others and to be a vessel for His healing power?
* * *
I have so much to share about the goodness, faithfulness, and power of this Supernatural God I serve.
And I’m so tired of changing my rhetoric and filtering what I have to say because I am fearful of what you will think of me for being a Christian, for wanting to share Jesus with others, for believing that signs and wonders still happen today, and for wanting to pray big, bold prayers.
Because if you knew that you could experience His goodness, faithfulness, and power, it would change your life.
* * *
Storytelling is a part of me; communication is a gift.
My passion is undeniable, and my enthusiasm is contagious.
I have experienced miracles, so I’m not afraid to pray big, bold prayers.
I strive to live a life that aligns with the Word of God; I want to be the salt and light of the world every day.
I’m learning to minister in new ways, to walk in the prophetic, to pray for miracles, and to evangelize.
Sharing Jesus, the ultimate source of freedom, love, joy, peace, and power, with others is my life mission + purpose.
Combine those things, and you’ve got a Millennial Fireball–a nickname recently given to me by my pastor.
As I’ve taken steps toward boldness in 2019, the enemy has done everything he can to shut up this Millennial Fireball.
But I’m not backing down from speaking up.
I’m done being silent. I’m done filtering what I have to say. I’m done telling you blanket statements. I’m done keeping the power of Jesus a secret.
I’m ready to help bring Heaven to earth.
I’m ready to tell the whole Truth.
May everything that I do and say be done in love, but if I love people as much as I say that I love people, then I’m going to have to speak up because people deserve the opportunity to discover the goodness, faithfulness, and power of this supernatural God.
“So the word of the Lord has brought me insult and reproach all day long. But if I say, ‘I will not mention his word or speak anymore in his name,’ his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot” (Jeremiah 20:8-9 NIV).
