Change

I have my own office.
I thought I'd LOVE having my own office. When we were back at the Shervan Square office, there were 15 desks jammed into one room. I shared desk space with 4 other people. No privacy, lots of noise. It was crazy. Always something happening. I was counting down the days until I had an office of my very own. I remember thinking "I can ACTUALLY get work done when I have my own office. I can't wait."
Now the day is here. I'm typing this very blog from the comfort and privacy of my own office. It's quiet, it's distraction free, and it's kind of lonely! Don't get me wrong, I'm so thankful! But it's so different. It's an adjustment that I wasn't expecting to make. I wasn't expecting to actually MISS the chaos and noise of Shervan Square. Isn't it funny how things like that work? I know that, with time, I will love my office. With a little help from Jessica, I know it will be transformed into a room that I love. But I'm just being honest, it's difficult. It's an adjustment. It's taking me time. I fight change. I don't always do so well. And right now, we are in a HUGE season of change. Part of me can't wait, and part of me wants to move back to Shervan Square... it's funny how things work. More than anything, I'm learning to appreciate the seasons. This season of change won't be forever. I want to learn to embrace it and LOVE it.... I'm still learning :)

Second Chances

Second chances are so beautiful.
We've all screwed up. We've all failed. We've all done something we're less than proud of. And we all deserve a second chance.
A few years back I was introduced to this organization called People of a Second Chance. It's a beautiful organization that is all about radical grace and forgiveness in ministry and leadership. This is a quote from their website that gets me teary eyed every time I read it:

"We are not ashamed of our scars, wounds, or failures and leverage them as a source of strength and character development."

Second chances are so beautiful. They are so powerful. In my life, God has given me the greatest second chance of all. And so has the community I've surrounded myself with. I've made my fair share of mistakes. Some pretty big ones. I've messed up. I've fallen pretty far down a path of destruction and chaos. But when I reached an all-time low, I found that I was given a second chance to become the woman God wanted me to be all along. I wasn't looked down upon, I wasn't judged for my past. I was loved in a deep, true, authentic way. And that's what made all the difference. Now, my passion and burning desire is to become that second chance for others. To be that voice of hope and love to someone who has fallen just as far as I had. Just as I freely received that love, I want to freely give it.

Second chances are so beautiful. They bring life to the lifeless. They bring hope to the hopeless. They remind people that they ARE worthy of love and something better than what they're living now.

I was deeply moved by this blog today. You should go, right now, and read it. It's incredible. God wants to heal MORE than our bodies. He wants to heal our hearts. What's a better way to heal a heart than by offering a second chance? By offering forgiveness and love instead of bitterness and anger? I can't think of one. I'm so thankful for the grace that has been shown to me.

Second chances are just so beautiful.

A bit about me: Passion.

As I was driving to the Sacramento Airport today, I realized something about myself; I'm a passionate person. I'm passionate about everything that is of importance to me. I either passionately LOVE something or passionately DESPISE something. There's really no middle ground for me. More often than not, I am moved to tears by both the things I passionately love and passionately detest. So, to go along with passionate, I am also a bit sensitive (okay, a LOT sensitive). But these are things I'm learning to love about myself. I love that stealing a sweet moment with one of the children that I love usually leaves me with tears running down my cheeks, and that listening to a story of a life changed gets me all weepy. God has created me with a sensitive heart and a fierce passion to defend the things that so deeply touch that heart. I know some people will never understand, and that's okay. All I know is that I am who I am for a reason, and I hope and pray that God will continue to use and shape my overly-sensitive, overly-passionate, loving heart to touch the lives of others.

Mail.

I've been struggling with this feeling lately. It's like when you come home from vacation, and you have a GIANT stack of mail waiting for you.
Some good mail, some bad mail.
All you REALLY want to do is toss every single piece of it in the garbage, and walk away.
It would be so much easier.
It would take so much less time.
It wouldn't be frustrating or hard to just throw the mail away. But you know you'd be missing out on some good stuff if you tossed it all out. Because with the bad comes good.
It's true.
I know it's true.
But the place where I get stuck is just feeling so overwhelmed by all of it.
Where do I start?
How do I know which piece to look at first?
Do I pull from the middle of the pile, or the top?
There's just so much... and even though I know the good stuff is in there, all I can see is the bad and hard and messy mail.
And it's discouraging.
That's been the struggle lately... facing my mail. One piece at a time.
Some pieces are harder than others, but I know that with the bad comes good. With the pain comes healing.

Photo source

Fathers.

Viewing God as my father has always been a struggle for me. The lens I view a father through is a dysfunctional, painful one. A lens with a lot of hurt and a lot of confusion. So when I cry out to God as his daughter, there is an immediate distortion, followed by an immediate hesitation. I begin to pile on to God all of the attributes of my biological father. His short temper and impatience with me. His lack of compassion and love and tenderness. His indifference. His passivity. His lack of interest.
These are the things I unfairly associate with a father, and therefore, with God.
Last night, there was a call for prayer at the end of our 6:00 gathering at the Stirring. Derrick called forward people who felt they had a skewed view of the Father, and who needed to hear they were the Beloved Child of God. The longer I stood there, the clearer it was that I needed to have a specific leader pray for me. Stubbornly, I took my time but did eventually make it over to Sean. I gave him a brief summary of what was going on with me, and his response was simple. "Emily, you wouldn't be the person you are today if your dad was your only Father. You are who you are today because God is your Father first."
Such a simple truth, but something I'd never given much thought to.
Without God, I would not be where I am. I would not have the job that I have, the passions that I have, the family that I have... I would be a completely different person. It is clear that I am the Beloved daughter of the King because of the way he has transformed my life. And while I'm sure it will be an ongoing struggle for me to see clearly through the "God-Is-My-Father" lens, I know that I am deeply loved by my Father. And that's a start, right?

30 Days of Celebration

A few things I love:
-Grape flavored bubble gum
-Sticky notes
-Valentine's Day
-Fresh flowers
-Coffee. Always coffee.
-Hugs
-Mistletoe :)
-Love notes
-Love letters
-Love stories
-Love
-Bright colors
-Chocolate
-Surprises
-Giving gifts
-Laughing
-Kisses from kids I love the most
-Learning something new

Today I'm celebrating some of the little things in my life that make me the most happy.

30 Days of Celebration

Last Sunday, Aaron brought an incredible word about how we SHOUT with our stories. Our stories shout where we've been, who we're becoming, what we stand for, how we've been hurt and how we've been healed. Our stories should shout the loudest. God has given me a story to shout. He's still adding to it. Sometimes it's hard. And it hurts. But I know that I get to choose to hide my story or shout my story. I choose to shout it every time. Sure it's a long story, sure it's messy and parts of it are hard to hear, but it's a story about a life changed. About God rescuing one of his children. It's a story full of hope. And people need to hear stories full of hope and God's mighty love. That's why I shout my story. And that's what I'm celebrating today. My shout.