authenticity isn't found in the rearview mirror

I’ve often prided myself in my ability to share openly about things I've gone through, things I've struggled with. But then I realized it was only because they were past tense. I am being open and honest, but about my then, not my now.

It's easier to share my weaknesses after I've strengthened them. It's safer to talk about my failures once I've bounced back from them.

But it's not really authenticity if it's after the fact.

Genuine authenticity is transparent and unguarded and vulnerable.

And while there is some level of that in sharing about past struggles, nothing is quite as authentic as sharing about current struggles.

No matter what else I do in this year of risking more, nothing will be as hard as the risks I take with my heart.

But they are risks I want to take.

I desire the intimacy and closeness that comes with true authenticity. I crave the matchless relational connection that's borne out of putting my heart on the line.

Even though it leaves me feeling exposed and vulnerable.

I'm learning that with those I trust, I can be naked and unashamed.

So I'm stripping down and working on being more authentic in the moment.

And hoping the "unashamed" part will follow.

cliff notes

Cliff notes of my week: I spent time in DC with my sweet friend Tracee. The morning after I arrived, I ended up in a pediatric (don't ask) dentist's office on an emergency visit . What I thought was possibly a filling that fell out was actually half my tooth. Yikes.

We ate at one of my favorite restaurants from back home in South Africa---in downtown DC. (Holla if you've ever eaten at Nando's on either side of the ocean!) I was disappointed they didn't have Castle Lager, but the peri-peri chicken made my nose run and my heart happy.

I volunteered at Catalyst One Day in Baltimore, and got to sit in on pretty much the entire event. God's good like that. (I love me some leadership development!)

I wasn't sure what to expect from my Meet Me at Starbucks shout-out, and was blown away that 17 people showed up. It was interesting to see corners of my world collide as ministry supporters, old friends, and bloggers intersected in one spot.

It felt a little blind-date-esque to finally meet Tonggu Momma, The Gypsy Mama, Stranger, and my lurking "I'll never comment" reader from Oklahoma. (Hi Karen!)

I didn't realize the implications when I announced on twitter and Facebook that "my 'blind date' at Starbucks was so great!" One friend told me with a raised eyebrow that he wanted to hear my crazy blind date story.  Another called his wife to see if she knew anything about this date I went on. Oops.

At the last minute, I booked a ticket to Detroit. Since I arrived two nights ago, I've shot a promo video, met with some pastors, spent time with a friend who works at Thrive, and hung out with my Yeller. Good times in Michigan. I'm ready to get home to the HTL though.

What are some cliff notes from your week?

this is YOUR post

What's that mean to you?

four-minute friday: do me a favor

Go. I've been contemplating my four-minute post for a few hours now and, with no clear topic in mind, I finally decided to just start typing.

Last night was my last intern class of the year. It was overwhelmingly incredible, to say the least. But I already blogged about that over on the Field Blog.

This afternoon I'm taking the interns for their last visit to Hope House. I know it's going to be emotional; they've poured themselves into these kids for an entire year...

We leave Monday morning at the ungodly hour of 4:00 to drive to Cape Town for a week of debriefing. I'm looking forward to one last hurrah with them. And I can't wait to see me some jackass penguins. (I'm serious! They exist! And they live in Africa!)

I talk often about the revolving door of my life in ministry --- how I tire of the constant turnaround of people. I must confess: I've grown to dread this time of year. All the goodbyes and the need to reopen my heart to start over? Man oh man, it's hard for me.

So will you do me a favor? Every time you drink a hot frothy beverage in one of those gloriously divine red to-go cups, remember me and say a quick prayer for my heart.

Done.

authenticity by the slice

The me that you see here at The Grit is genuine. It's not all of me, but it's not a fabricated form of me either. While I don't share everything about myself or the things going on in my life, what I share is authentic. I'm not a different person in real life than I am in the blogosphere. In real life, you'll see and discover different aspects of me, but it's all still me. The Grit shows only a slice of who I am. But it's a genuine slice. No artificial ingredients.

I've worked hard in the past 18 months to be more transparent, more open. In some ways I've taken great strides; in others, I haven't. Some things you may still only discover about me by reading through the lines.

No need to read between the lines, though, about my imperfections and shortcomings. I'm more weak than strong. I'm more doubtful than faith-filled. There is much lacking in my leadership abilities; I'm trying everyday to be a better wife; I am not a very good missionary. Praying is hard for me lately, and my heart feels heavier than it has in a long time.

But this much I know is true: I treasure my blogging friendships. You've each helped to shape, challenge, encourage, and inspire me. As I'm starting to wrap my head around the fact that I'll be on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean by Sunday, I know that I'll miss the close connection I've felt with so many of you these past few months.

Thanks for reading. And commenting. And sticking around. For even caring to get to know this little slice of me.