It’s Personal

I don’t blog nearly enough, but when I do, I try to write or have a video about the things that you, my supporters, might be interested in; Things like what ministry is like, what day to day is, and the general reassurance that your money isn’t being spent in the South African casinos or something. In looking over past blogs, I’ve kept it pretty “surfacey”. (New word; Yes, creating them is one of my spiritual gifts.) I find it difficult to open up my heart to hundreds of people and let them see my struggles, my insecurities. God has made it clear to me, part of His use of me includes sharing some things that I might consider personal. So I want to be more transparent with you.
 
Before the World Race, I don’t know that I ever sat and listened for God to speak to me. I didn’t even know how He would go about speaking to me besides through the Bible. Did people actually just sit still and just… wait? Is it possible to literally not have a single thought cloud the listening process? Some people hear God speaking in thoughts, some in dreams, some through the His Word, some audibly. These are stories of how God has spoken to me.

 

 
Like many girls, I have always struggled with insecurity about my weight and the way I look. Insecurity is not becoming, so I generally try to hide it. I have always known that I should be seeking affirmation in God and in Him alone. However, like anything worth doing, it’s a lot easier said than done.
 
Rewind to month 2: Haiti. I met a wonderful woman of God, Angela. Angela is so sweet and easy to talk to. She married a Haitian, Gama, and moved her life there. Hearing stories of how people fell in love is one of my favorite things, so naturally I asked her about her husband. While telling the story, she casually said, “I didn’t think he could like me, but that was before I valued myself.” Wow – I usually don’t come across people who have struggled with the same insecurities and can tell me about how they conquered them. I asked her to please impart some wisdom to me about how to get over this. “You know,” she said, “I really started to see the value God has placed on me when I started this study on Song of Solomon. It’s by a guy named Mike Bickle. Oh Lianna, you’ve got to do the study. I’m sure you could find it online. If you can’t find it, just read Song of Solomon as if God was speaking those words to you.” She prayed with me and asked God to help me see myself the way He sees me, not what I see when I look in the mirror. And so God spoke…
 
Fast forward to month 5: Mozambique. We were able to stay in a house for most of our month. Our squad leaders, Rachel W., Ben, and Brett stayed with us for a couple weeks. By month 5, I’d finished all the books I brought on the race, and a few that had been passed throughout the squad. Anna, our contact there, had a big bag of books that she said we could look through and read while we were there. I opened the bag and searching for something to catch my eye when I saw two CDs. “Song of Solomon Study by Mike Bickle. Discs 1 and 2.” Ha – ok, God. I’ll do it. I had tried to look for the study online once or twice, but had pushed it to the back of my mind, though the insecurities were still there just as strong as ever. I began to read Song of Solomon. I reread a verse Angela and I had read together in Haiti. Chapter 1, verse 15: “Look at you! You are beautiful, my true love! Look at you! You are so beautiful! Your eyes are like doves.” And so God spoke…
 
Fast forward just a week or so: still Mozambique. I’ve been very open about wanting to grow in listening prayer, and God has blessed me with squad leaders and a team that really cultivate that. One of my favorite things about having the squad leaders around is the worship we get to do with them. During one night of worship, Ben said that we were going to do listening prayer. We all closed our eyes, except for Brett. Brett would choose one person by placing something in their hands, and everyone else would just ask God for a specific word for that person, not knowing who it is. We’ve done this exercise before at debriefs. I have been the chosen person in the past. Usually people say things like “I just feel like God wants me to tell you that He loves you.” or,  “There’s a hole in your life, something that God wants to fill.” Good words. True words. Words that could be applicable to pretty much anyone. My eyes were closed, and Brett placed something in my hands. Still not knowing who was chosen, people began to speak out what God was telling them or showing them. “He’s proud of you.” “Ok, He’s proud of all of us,” I thought. My craving to hear God had never been so intense. I pray silently, “God – I desire so badly to hear your voice. Why can’t I hear you? Speak to me, please. I’m listening. Say something to me, specifically me.” Just then Ben began to talk. “God wants me to tell you… just that you’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. Stop trying, stop comparing. You’re enough. His heart is already captivated by you. He delights in you. He brought a verse to my mind. It’s in Song of Solomon, I think the first chapter.” Ben went on to quote the very words I had read and reread. Instant chills. His voice was undeniably clear in that moment. And so God spoke…
 

 
Rewind just a little to last month: Swaziland. Last month tied with one other country for my favorite month of the Race so far. Man-istry for the guys, woman-istry(?) for the girls. I loved living in a house, just the 26 women together. Rachel W. had the idea for us as a house, to fast from food and from using our voices for the day. She worded it like this: “We try to listen to God, and with all the distractions we might get 25%, or even 50% of what He’s trying to tell us. What if we got rid of all the distractions and could hear 100% of what God is trying to tell us? What if you could hear 100%?” So the house was silent for the day. I read and prayed for Him to speak. God reminded me of an idea given to me in month 5, to make a list of the ways I felt failed by a certain person, then to write how God completely covers that. And so God spoke…
 
In an effort to be completely vulnerable… This is an excerpt from my journal:
 

To the one that hurt me:	What God says to me:
You say you love me, but your actions scream the opposite.	I love you. I died for you. I show you that I love you every single day.
I don’t even know who are you anymore.	I’m the same. I’m constant. So is my love for you.
I trusted you. You were my safe place, and you abandoned me.	I’m your safe place. I’m your strong tower. The times you’ve hurt and forgotten Me? They’re in the ocean.
You’ve broken my heart.	That heart is mine. I can do so much with that heart. I’ve got you. My mercies for you are new every day. You are my precious daughter. I will never ever leave you.

 

 
Rewind to just a couple weeks ago: Manzini, Swaziland. After six months of being away, I started to get homesick. I missed grabbing coffee with my friends. I missed eating cereal with Scott while watching TV. I missed girl talk with Jamie. I missed going anywhere with my mom. I missed phone conversations with people closest to me. I missed beds, hot water, freedom to come and go. The hype of going away had worn off and I was feeling a little bit… well, forgotten. Some of my biggest cheerleaders before I left had e-mailed me twice, maybe three times in six months. I had only spoken to my mom for a combined total of ten minutes in three weeks. One of my closest friends, Bryon, was the exception. Reading his weekly e-mails has consistently been a highlight. One day, I finally was able to get in touch with my mom. I broke down and began to cry. “Bryon is the only one from home that cares.” Being the good mother she is, she reassured me that wasn’t at all true, then made my brother e-mail me. I was being overly sensitive for sure, but I still felt unloved.
 
Fast forward a couple days: debrief in Mbabane, Swaziland. It was a worship night. We were leaving in just a couple days to begin our seventh month in South Africa. Most people were singing, and I quietly began to thank God for what He’d done in me the past month, and how He’d revealed himself to me. I thanked Him for speaking to me. I felt a hand on my back. I turned to see Christina, smiling, with tears in her eyes. “Sorry,” she said, “I always cry when I hear God speaking to me, but just listen. He wants me to tell you something. I was just standing in the back worshipping and He just put you on my heart. I just broke for you because it was just so strong. Lianna, He loves you. Oh my gosh, He loves you. SO much. Just know that. You are so loved.” Tears began to form in my eyes too as I hugged her and thanked her for being so obedient to God’s voice. I have no reason in the world to feel unloved. Ever. And so God spoke…
 
 

 
God speaks to me in so many ways. Lately, He knows that I’ve needed to hear Him loudly, so He sent Angela, Ben, Rachel, and Christina to tell me what I’d otherwise been missing in verses and thoughts, etc. I wanted audible words, and He gave them to me. He has specifically, and unquestionably spoken to me.
 
 
Abba,
            I can never be grateful enough for how much You’ve blessed me. Thank You for completely overwhelming me with Your love. I guess I can never really, truly grasp how much You actually do love me. You love me. No matter my success or failures, no matter how smart or thin, You could never love me more or less than You already do. I just can’t wrap my mind around that. Help me to love like You love. I’m so unworthy, but You say I’m worth it. Thank You that You do speak to me. Thank You that I can hear You clearly. Thank You for being so patient with me in telling me the same things a million different ways if I don’t get it the first time. Just thank You.