Scary.

Ya know what's scary about prayer?

Sometimes, God answers it.

If you tell Him you want to stop treasuring control, He will wrestle it right out of your tightly-clenched fists.

If you tell Him you want to live present to Him, He might take away all you knew of your future.

If you tell Him you want to understand grace, He'll put you in a place where you can't do anything but receive.

If you tell Him you want to depend on Him completely, He'll knock everything else out from under your feet.

If you tell Him you want to live in surrender, He will carry you to the altar.

Scary? Yes.
Good? Absolutely. 

So, after a long, prayerful process, guided by mentors, filled with encouragement of friends from all over, I've decided to leave Denver Seminary and the counseling program after this semester, aka in three weeks. If you're interested in the story, I'd be happy to share it with you over a beverage of your choice. Anyhow, it begs the question, What next?

What do I want to do when I grow up?

What a great question. One to which I wish I knew the answer.

It's funny.

First, I wanted to be a meteorologist.
And then a marine biologist.
And then a journalist.
And then a bioethicist.
And then a lawyer and politician.
And then a music teacher.
And then an abolitionist.
And then a counselor.

And now I'm finding that I don't really want to be any of those things.

I mean, I could start a whole other list.

Coffee-shop owner.
Worship leader.
Pianist.
Businesswoman.
Overseas missionary.
Administrator.
Wife.
Mom.
Campus minister.
Professional Scrabble player.

But I don't want to do anything, per se. I just want to be.

But how do you do that in a world that insists on defining yourself by what you do?

And furthermore, how do you reconcile the incongruence between being who God made you to be but also needing to pay bills? What does that look like this side of heaven?

Work has been broken in life after Eden. Instead of allowing us to express our identity as the Image-Bearers of God, it has become our identity. One that is suffocating. Like a noose around our necks. Every major or career I've pursued thus far has felt like it expresses certain parts of me but chokes out others.

Maybe I'm asking the wrong questions.

Maybe it's not about finding the dream job.

Maybe it really is being. Being grateful. Being present. Being alive. And accepting the incongruence of work after the Fall. Living in tension. Sigh.

It doesn't answer my question. But is it an answer I really need? To use the counseling cliche "the process is the point." Sigh.

The way of trust.

“The way of trust is a movement into obscurity, into the undefined, into ambiguity, not into some predetermined, clearly delineated plan for the future. The next step discloses itself only out of a discernment of God acting in the desert of the present moment. The reality of naked trust is the life of the pilgrim who leaves what is nailed down, obvious, and secure, and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future. Why? Because God has signaled the movement and offered it his presence and his promise.”

-Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust

Waiting...

"To wait open-endedly is an enormously radical attitude toward life.
So is to trust that something will happen to us that is far beyond our
imaginings.

So, too, is giving up control over our future and letting
God define our life, trusting that
God molds us according to God's love and not according to our fear.

The spiritual life is a life in
which we wait, actively present to the moment, trusting that new
things will happen to us, new things that are far beyond our own
imagination, fantasy, or prediction.

That, indeed, is a very radical
stance toward life
in a world preoccupied with control."

~Henri J. M.Nouwen

"He bought the boy the kite because the memory of the wind was stronger than the memory of the kite."

The Boy, the Kite, and the Wind from Improbable Philanthropist on Vimeo.

Happy birthday, Ju.

Today marks the day a certain Julianne Elyse Judge entered the world, 23 years ago. A glorious day, to be sure.

There are certain people that walk into your life, and you just know they were meant to be there. Julianne was one of those people, though I wasn't ever sure why. But it's only become clearer, as the years have gone by. Hard to believe it's already been four.

Julianne, the girl with the smiling eyes and enough energy to make the energizer bunny look like a snail... the girl with a heart big enough to welcome anyone she meets and make them feel like they're a long lost friend... the girl with wild dreams and the guts to pursue them...

This is my dear friend. The one who, over PB&J in a Indy hotel room, called me out and dared me to pursue faith with intentionality, to live this whole Jesus thing out, for real. The one who's always made me feel so cherished and beloved, even from halfway across the world. The one who is sometimes more excited about my dreams and passions than I am...and cheers me on always. And who's held me when I've just needed to be. Through all the highs, lows, and inbetween ordinary days, Julianne has been a sister, a heart friend, the kind everyone needs and that I'm absolutely grateful to have.

So, from the mountains, to the cornfields of NW Ohio, happy 23rd, dearest Julianne. I'm honored to share this adventure called life with you.

“Wherever you are, be all there." -Jim Elliot

I have taken this to be my goal for the semester...fully aware I will not "arrive" by May, but trying to take baby steps.

I will do one thing at a time, and I will do it well.

I will listen to music because it feeds my soul.

I will read stories because they let me feel more human.

I will be with people, because they are.

I will try new foods and enjoy the way they smell, feel, and taste.

I will walk slowly because there is always something to see on the way.

I will be grateful for the gifts I am being given in each moment.

I will not be defined by my to-do list, my calendar, my grades, or any other measure of productivity. I will let myself be inaccessible because the world will go on without me. I will go to the desert places for the sake of renewal, restoration, and communion with Jesus.

Leaving efficiency, productivity, and performance behind for experiencing, being, and thriving. Adventure is out there!