If you told me a year ago I’d be attending Ecola Bible School, I would have shoved my bachelor’s degree in your face. If you told me a year ago I’d be planning to live at a homeless shelter in Portland, Oregon for a week with a handful of my classmates, I would have locked myself in my room. If you told me a year ago I’d be preparing to travel the world for a year for God’s glory I would have– ok, I’d be on board for that because, hey, I’d get to travel right?
I haven’t always been hard hearted. In fact, I probably had a heart equivalent to silly putty. Growing up in a Christian home, I heard it all. Before I could even read, I could tell Bible stories just by looking at the pictures. I had all the patches and pins on my AWANA uniforms. I watched Veggie Tales, listened to Adventures in Odyssey and of course had the biggest crush on Nate from Plus One [the Christian equivalent of Justin Timberlake and N*Sync for all you cultured folk].
My sister, Amanda & me [left] posing on top of a mountain.
It’s what normal Alaskan homeschoolers do best.
So when the idea was presented to me at age sixteen that I should go on a mission trip to Costa Rica, I said “Sure, why not?” I honestly don’t even remember caring all that much. It was almost as if I signed up because my sister was going [she was pretty much the coolest so naturally, I wanted to go too]. Ten days out of the country and away from home? I’ll take it.
Little did I know that writing my hobbies and interests on a simple application would become one of the most pivotal moments I’ve experienced thus far.
The land where curly hair is uncontrollable & beans are a breakfast food.
Costa Rica changed me. If there’s any way I can explain it, it’d be that I exploded out of my private, one person shell and fell in love with life. I discovered my passion for working with kids [David, pictured above, was my little shadow the entire time we were there]. I realized that I felt more alive, more lost yet more at peace in another country. Completely away from everything “normal”, everything American.
And so I realized I wanted to be involved in missions when I grew up.
Fast forward a few years to my freshman year of college. My heart had never forgotten Costa Rica; the passion, the thirst for adventure, for life outside the norm remained. So when my mom stumbled upon a little Bible school in Italy, my younger sister, our friend, and I were immediately on board. Getting college credit while living in Europe for three months? Is this real?!
The plan to attend Saints Bible Institute was a two year process of convincing our parents, convincing my college to accept the credits, and convincing my bank account to cooperate.
Playing substitute mom/nanny — one of many fundraising gigs
Those two years paid off because in February 2012, we found ourselves freezing our faces off in beautiful Italy. Like Costa Rica, Italy changed me as well and became yet another major turning point of my life. Again I seemed to come out of my shell, to rediscover a passion for new cultures and new adventures that college had apparently drained from me.
My sister, Mary Ann [L], our friend Erin, and me [R] in Paris.
Not only was it all fun and adventure; it was also uncomfortable and realistic. I was able to help local missionaries with ESL classes, hand out tracts and Bible literature, attend the first service of a new church plant, sit in on the church mission meeting, and try to grasp the life of a missionary as much as I could. The gritty, not so glamorous lifestyle of a missionary hit me smack in the face, and I realized maybe this wasn’t for me. I wanted adventure, excitement, instant gratification! Turned out this little American had the most, well, Americanized view of being a missionary.
The most ironic part of being in Italy and the near year and half after I came home was that I was telling everyone how I planned to be involved in overseas ministry when I graduated college. But my heart was anywhere but near ready. I guess you could say that I was a hypocrite, and as good as they come. All those years of Veggie Tales, VBS, and forced Bible studies really got to me and I realized I was sick of pretending. I didn’t want to serve a God who made me feel guilty for not reading my Bible everyday, who, after crying out to him for so long, rarely answered me, who was constantly disappointed in me because I couldn’t live up to his perfect expectations.
And so, right before Italy, I ripped up my “good Christian girl” checklist and gave Christianity an enthusiastically angry goodbye.
But the more I ran away, the more dissatisfied I got. Sure, at the time I pretended it wasn’t true, that I was actually in control of my life. Yet my eating disorder and anxiety said otherwise. Still, I forced everything down, tried to run from God and from myself for as long as I could. All the while forcing a smile and telling everyone who asked that I had a heart for ministry outside the US [I refused to use the word missionary– that was too Christian sounding and I was only on board for adventure, not Gospel sharing].
When I graduated college at the end of 2012, one of the lowest points of my life, I didn’t know where else to run. Life, pain, and God had caught up with me and I found myself accepting a full-time job at a Christian conference center [the irony continues]. Deep down I knew one day I would come around, one day God would be more than just a swear word again. But I couldn’t give in, I was too terrified of slowing my sprint to a jog, of giving up control of my future plans, of having to speak Christianese again.
Long story short, I fought God. A lot. I’m currently attending Ecola Bible School so I think it’s safe to say I lost. And I’m so glad I did. I’m SO glad.
Sometimes theology blows our brains out so we sit & stare at newspapers for a while.
I’m constantly in a state of being overwhelmed by the grace and blessings God continues to pour out on me. I don’t deserve a single thing, sure didn’t deserve a second [and third and fourth] chance, yet he embraces me like it was just yesterday that I ran away. And reveals to me His plan for me to go on World Race in July. A beautiful combination of my newfound faith and my passions of travel and adventure.
Wow.
I am so humbled. I am so broken. Since day one of my life, God has had this entire plan in place! He knew I was going to walk away, he knew I was going to hurt him and myself, he knew I was going to nearly drown in my own pride. I was way in over my head. Yet he continues to bless me with my heart’s deepest desires [which, happily, are now God’s desires].
There’s no way I can respond with anything but, “Ok, God. Send me.”
And I am one hundred percent content with that. Losing the battle and being broken has never been so beautiful.
