perspective changer

I struggle with jealousy more than I'd like to admit.

I want to be the friend who gets the call first. The one who's told the big/important/great/awful news first. I want to be somebody's somebody. Their best, favorite, whatever...

And He is jealous for me...

I find myself feeling hurt when I'm left out or disregarded, or when I realize a relationship isn't as close as I thought it was. I want to feel like others are pursuing and investing in friendship as much as I am.

And He is jealous for me...

I see what others have — in things, in strengths, in relationships, in ministry, in influence, in personality — and I secretly wish I had them too.

And He is jealous for me...

I look back over a lifetime of living in others' shadows. And while I actually prefer not being the one in the spotlight, I realize how often it's left me feeling invisible. And how much I long to simply be seen.

And He is jealous for me...

My heart is filled with jealousy... Over things and people and callings and opportunities.

And He is jealous for me...

He.

Is jealous.

For me.

acquired taste

I met my friend Jen Price on Twitter. (Story of my life these days... And I love it!) After a few Tweet convos, blog visits, and emails, I knew we were kindred spirits. She and her husband Jeremy pioneered a ministry in South Africa a decade+ ago and are currently back in the States on sabbatical. Jeremy just finished up work on his debut EP project, and I got a sneak peek a few weeks ago.

Now, those who know me well know I have zero music skills, but that I love love love good music.

Believe me when I tell you, Jeremy's EP Acquired Taste is definitely good music.

I love the irony of the album name, because it's certainly anything but an acquired taste. Right off the bat, Jeremy drew me in with his raw honesty, the simplicity of his acoustic style, and his poignant lyrics. (I'm such a words girl!)

Acquired Taste is peaceful and profound. It is compelling,  unique, and soul-stirring.

I asked Jeremy about his heart and journey with this project, and how his work in Africa ties in with it all. In his own words---

I have been writing songs for over 15 years and spent much of my early adult life playing music all over the world. The last few years I have set it aside while building Ten Thousand Homes. But now is the time. Ten Thousand Homes is a movement of ordinary people actively building HOPE and creating HOMES for Africa’s orphans and vulnerable children. In creating home for these children we try to inspire them to pursue joy. In the midst of great tragedy and loss, we desire for them to pursue their dreams, that which gives them joy. My pursuit in joy has always led me to music. And one day I realized that to really help these guys I must all out pursue that which gives me joy. So for the first time, freaked out and completely blessed, I am releasing my first EP, Acquired Taste. I chose songs that were not all written recently. One was written this year, while others go back as far as 8 years ago. The title track Acquired Taste was written while in the bush of Africa. I really wanted to represent a journey, and while this is a simple recording, I am extremely proud of it! What I know now is that this is only the beginning! I continue to work in Africa, and while Ten Thousand Homes has no paid staff, the sale of these albums does help the work continue. Thank you for listening. Thank you for investing in dreams. Now, go pursue that which brings you joy!

So do yourself a favor, and go listen to Jeremy's incredible album. If you like what you hear, and I know you will, you can download it for as little as $3! You can't beat that!

Listen to and Download Acquired Taste.

Follow Jeremy on Twitter.

Like him on Facebook.

Then share with the rest of the class...

What is it that brings you joy?

me 2.0

I just stumbled upon the beginnings of a blog post that's been collecting dust in my drafts folder since January. I am the queen of unfinished ideas and unpublished posts. Sigh...

Anyway.

Back in January I attended Dream Year Weekend here in Nashville. I was wrestling through my own feelings of dreamlessness, and didn't know how to reconcile that with all the amazing stuff I was hearing at Dream Year. I had some candid conversations with a few key friends to help me sort through my own heart thoughts.

Segments of one of those conversations (a text convo at that!) have been sitting in my dusty draft blog post folder all this time.

It is amazing to see the truth and strength of the words spoken to me almost a year ago, and how they have taken shape in my life over the course of this year.

The cliff-notes version of my friend's wisdom:

• You don't need to find a new vision.
• Your vision, purpose, and passion are the core of who you are. You are all about influencing people to change for the better and to pursue Christ. That is your heart, and that hasn't changed.
• Your ministry in Africa was the vehicle and tool you used to express that and live that out for 13 years.
• Now you need to discover a different vehicle and tool to express it. But your heartbeat hasn't changed.
• That's why you've continued to be an influence through your blog, your relationships, & your Twitter interactions. That is simply who you are, no matter what.
• As you look forward into the future, the vehicle for living that out and expressing it will need to change. But the essence of who you are and what your passions are won't.
• Let's work on discovering a new vehicle...

That was a whole lotta wisdom and a whole lotta truth. In a text conversation. That my friend probably doesn't even remember having.

You know what I titled the draft post I had those bullet-points saved in?

"Me 2.0"

And a year later, I find myself finally realizing and embracing that.

Me 2.0.

I've begun recognizing ways that my passions and heart can continue to be lived out, even though my ministry in Africa closed. Even though it looks totally different than anything I'd ever anticipated.

So as I sit here thinking through all this, and finally turning this dusty draft into a real, live post... all I keep thinking is this:

You really never know how impactful your words can be in someone's life. Even a simple text message can make a world of difference.

So, today...

Speak into your loved ones' situation. In person, on the phone, in an email, via text... whatever. Just speak life into their heart.

They need it even more than you'll ever know.

our (virtual) wall of thanks

One of my favorite Thanksgiving traditions is my post-it-note wall of thanks.

I'm declaring this our very own Gritty family wall of thanks.

And my first post-it would be:

Don't know Sara? Read about her Choose Joy legacy...

What would yours be? (List as many as you want!)

If you're on Twitter and Instagram, let's keep adding to our #WallOfThanks there all day today.

Happy Thanksgiving, my amazing Gritty family!

worship on a high pain day

I don't talk about my health issues very often. Or with very many people. For lots of reasons.

Not the least of which is that I have more questions than answers, both in terms of actual diagnosis as well as my heart's processing of it all.

So this post feels like a tremendous risk for me.

It felt frighteningly risky when I began writing it a month ago. And it feels even more so today as it goes live online.

So I'm holding my breath. And doing it afraid.

Because maybe my questions will help someone else. Even if it's only to let them know they're not the only one asking...

... ... ...

I believe You're my Healer I believe You are all I need I believe You're my Portion I believe You're more than enough for me Jesus, You're all I need

That song gets me every single time...

I have a love/hate relationship with it because I always feel challenged to sing the words honestly. Even more so this Sunday morning, because...

It's a high pain day.

I battle chronic health issues, some days worse than others. Today is one of those days. And today, the aches have settled angrily in my hands and arms.

Since I woke up, I've been subconsciously massaging my hands. Rubbing my arms. Trying hard to find some small bit of relief however possible.

And then that song starts.

You walk with me through fire And heal all my disease I trust in You...

Oh my heart...

I'm left whispering that simple prayer that seems to be all I can muster at times like this: I believe, Lord. Help me in my unbelief.

So I lift my sore arms Heavenward and declare -- maybe mostly to myself -- "I believe You're my healer... I trust in You... Nothing is impossible for You..."

My heart wrestles through the tension of trusting that God heals, despite the fact that He may never heal me here on earth.

I've seen Him heal. I've watched it with my own eyes. I've seen Him do it through my own hands.

I've witnessed cataract-clouded eyes opening, lame men dancing, deaf ears hearing for the first time. I've experienced scores of miraculous healings. And yet, every day, I live with pain.

So my heart continues to wrestle through the tension of faith.

How do I reconcile what I believe to be true with what I actually experience everyday?

I don't know that I can.

Maybe all I can do is choose to keep wrestling. To worship Him anyway, with my pain-ridden hands held high. To acknowledge with honesty, "God, I don't get it... but I want to trust You. I need to trust You. Help me trust You."

Painfully praising.

Wincing in worship.

It isn't mine to understand. It is only mine to trust. Even in the pain. And the uncertainty. And the heartache.

I'm not called to understand the mind of God. I'm only called to pursue His heart.

And to trust that ultimately His heart is for my good and His glory, no matter what.

So even though I may not get it, I want Him to still get me.

All of me.

High pain days, wrestling heart, unanswered questions, and all...

Originally posted at Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

what will you look for today?

[image credit]

epically epoch

Nothing sounds more contradictory than a black-tie missions gala.

But Epoch 2011 pulled it off masterfully.

I was honored to attend their inaugural event in Atlanta, and while I don't know what I was picturing, what they delivered far blew away any expectations I may have had.

The night was spectacular in every way. I'm not just talking about the historic Fox Theater, the classy meal, the engaging presenters, or the elegance of the entire evening. Although every element from start to finish was artful and captivating.

The most amazing part for me was the undercurrent of genuine humility.

I don't say something like that lightly. So hear me out.

The event was hosted by Adventures in Missions, an incredible organization that itself lives on financial support. And yet they made the evening about everyone but themselves.

They found sponsors, invited donors, and distributed grants to support-based organizations, even when they very much need (and would make good use of) those same resources. Seth Barnes, the founder and director of Adventures, said grace before the meal, but other than that, he chose to not be front and center. At all.

This wasn't about him. This wasn't about Adventures.

This was about serving and honoring their co-laborers around the world.

The ballroom was filled with over 400 people on all sides of missions work: from those who live full-time on the field to Kingdom-minded individuals who make a significant impact through their financial support.

The majority of us felt very out of place in our evening gowns and tuxedos, and yet... felt oddly at home with each other. Because underneath the heels and bowties, our hearts beat the same.

I spent an evening surrounded by those who have given of themselves more than anyone could possibly fathom. And yet it wasn't flaunted. The Gala wasn't showy or ostentatious. It was beautiful, yes. Classy, absolutely. But genuine, because of the genuine hearts present.

That "great cloud of witnesses" the author of Hebrews talked about? I was surrounded by the pre-Heaven version.

The faith, sacrifice, perseverance, and blood-sweat-and-tears labor that filled that room was nothing short of astounding. Nations have been changed -- and will continue to be changed -- by that roomful of humble misfits in evening attire.

It was a night like none other.

And I already can't wait for next year.

That is... if I get invited back after my shenanigans in the photo booth. My true self came out in typical fashion, despite my red dress and uncomfortably high heels. My friend Tracee and I are still laughing at these ridiculous pictures!

Click over to LIKE the Grit on Facebook & view the crazy photo booth pics >

In honor of Epoch, Cross & Crown is offering a HUGE discount on design projects between now and 11/15 >

Where have you seen genuine humility recently?

God is good

I was raised to believe that blessings and healing and victory belong to those who believe. Which is a wonderful thought. But the flipside of that belief is that failure, sickness, and lack are signs of not believing enough. So while I was taught to instinctively respond to "God is good" with "All the time", it was understood that God's goodness is only reflected in the goodness of our own lives.

It's not in the pain or the difficulty or the challenges. For those, clearly, are signs of a wayward heart... a faltering faith... an unexposed sin.

Basically anything but blessing, success, and victory boiled down to me not being enough.

Not praying enough. Not believing enough. Not claiming the victory enough. Not speaking words of faith enough.

It was drilled into me that difficult and painful circumstances were never God's will for me. And if I found myself in the midst of them, then obviously I needed to change/fix/do something to get back in right-standing with God, so that things would turn around.

I think back now and I wonder how I processed all the stories I read in the Bible.

You know, stories like Stephen being killed because of his faith. And Joseph's decades of wrongful imprisonment. There's also Paul's beatings, jail sentences, and never-abating thorn in the flesh. John the Baptist, Jesus' own cousin, had his head chopped off. And let's not even talk about Job...

I don't know what I did with those stories that clearly flew in the face of the you-will-always-walk-in-blessings-if-you-have-enough-faith breed of Christianity I embraced.

Because the truth of the matter is this: There are a good many things in life that I simply can't believe my way out of.

The rain falls on the just and the unjust. Bad things happen to God-fearing people. Life isn't fair. And life is harder than anyone ever tells you it's gonna be.

A faith that only acknowledges the goodness of God when things are going great, isn't faith at all. It's nothing but a sandcastle mirage...

Faith is believing that God is good even when my life is anything but.

Faith is believing that God is good even when my world is caving in.

Even when the sickness isn't healed... When the pain gets worse instead of better... When my husband leaves me... When I lose everything...

Faith is looking at my world that's spiraling out of control and choosing to believe that the God of the universe is still in control.

God is good. And God is sovereign. And faith is believing both those truths at the same time.

Life is hard. This we all know.

But, still... God is sovereign, and God is good.

All the time.

No matter what.

Originally posted atDeeper Story. Read the comments there >

believe

Someone believed in me. And it gave me the courage to believe in myself. To put myself out there. To try something. To risk.

And that? That is a priceless gift.

Believe big in someone.

And make sure they know it. Down deep.

Help them see what you see in them, because they most likely can't see it themselves.

You never know what a difference it will make.

be present

I'm an extroverted introvert. But I'm still an introvert.

And this introvert? Is tired.

I just spent a couple days with 13,000 leaders at Catalyst in Atlanta. That's a whole lotta people time for someone like me.

But this was my 5th Catalyst experience. I love every minute of them. And this one was no exception.

Even though it leaves this introvert completely exhausted.

In fact, I took naps this time. Yes, I am that old. Or that... something. But both days at Catalyst, I found a way to slip away and take a nap.

On Friday, my friend Tracee and I cut out of a freezing cold session to warm up in the sun. In a hammock. And we fell asleep.

We found out later from a friend that eventually the session let out and thousands of people milled around us. And we didn't wake up... Even worse, hundreds of people lined up for a book signing right near our hammock. Literally, people lined both sides of us, waiting to get their books signed. And we slept through the entire thing.

We were cashed out!

So, um, if you were there... and took a picture of the crazy-hammock-sleeping girls... please let me know. And send me whatever awful pictures you took!

But seriously... naps and all, Catalyst was great.

As always, the hallway conversations were one of my favorite parts. I love the opportunities to connect with so many amazing people. The one-on-one and small group intteractions that just kind of erupt in hallways, on the lawn, over late-night drinks, at the Bloggers Meetup.... yeah... I love that.

The theme this year was Be Present. Such a good reminder for me in so many ways.

Remember my One Word?

Look?

Well, I haven't been looking as much as I should be...

All the challenges to be fully present were basically challenges to look.

To look around -- at what He's doing all around me all the time. To look up -- pressing in to Him as my only source of strength. To look in -- and not miss what He wants to do in me right this very moment. To look at those He's placed beside me -- to not miss the aspects of His heart that He shows me through His people.

Be present.

Look.

And... as needed...

Nap.

What does it mean to you to "be present"?

a living, breathing canvas

I don't even know how to find words right now. I honestly don't. I've left this blog abandoned because I simply don't know how to say everything that needs to be said. My beautiful friend Sara -- known so affectionately online as Gitzen Girl -- is dying. There is no easier way to say that. I wish there was...

Sara has been sick -- very sick -- for a very long time. And from the confines of her tiny condo in Iowa, where she's lived completely homebound for 3 years, she has changed my life.

I can't even begin to find words to explain THAT right now... so that will need to wait. But I've had the gift -- the sheer treasure -- of visiting with her twice. Of spending several weeks as her roommate. And that is a gift I will cherish always and always.

And now my beautiful Sara is in the final leg of her race. The finish line is in sight, and she is about to cross it. And even in dying -- just as she did her whole life -- she shows me Christ. She infuses me with courage and strength. And she teaches me how to love well and choose joy.

Choose joy.

It's been her life mantra. It has defined who she is and how she lives. Despite her pain. Despite the challenges. Despite her limitations. Choose joy. She has shown me what that truly means.

She has lived well and chosen joy right up to the end...

And the mark she has left on my life? I want it visible to the world.

I am going to get "choose joy" as a tattoo on my left forearm. In Sara's handwriting.

I want it as a visible, permanent reminder of who Sara is and how she lived. And how I want to live out the rest of my days.

Sara is known literally around the world for her beautiful painted canvases. They are works of art that reflect her steadfast faith and point our eyes Homeward.

And now her words, her art, will be painted on the canvas of ME. A living, breathing Gitzen Girl canvas...

Oh my heart...

I know many of you have been impacted by Sara, either in years of knowing her or even in just recently learning of her amazing story. Maybe you want to get inked as well.

Tam and I had my amazing friend Trevor at Cross & Crown put together some designs using Sara's own handwriting. (So. Frickin. Amazing.) He also designed some more block-font options that aren't as scripty... Maybe you'd like one of these as a permanent reminder to Choose Joy... Or maybe these will spark an idea in your mind of a unique design you want to run with.

I'd love to hear if you're gonna get a Choose Joy tattoo. And when you do, take pictures and blog/tweet about it so we can all celebrate Sara's life and legacy together.

We are also working on some other things we can do as a tribute to our Sara (like a custom line of jewelry), and I'll share details as soon as they come together.

What an amazing community of people who Sara loved so well!

Today... as you go about your day... please pray for Sara. Pray for her family and all those who love her so dearly. And remember to...

Choose joy.

Choose Joy - Gitz's Handwriting