My application with GEM is in the works & it’s time you knew about it.

My grandma got me this quote in a frame once, and I always have it on my wall.  It says, “She wasn’t where she had been, she wasn’t where she was going, but she was on her way.”  My life is an adventure and I love every second of it.  It is all a journey to get me where I’m going, and, well, God’s giving me the go ahead to take the next step.

Many of you know about my time with overseas missions.  It’s been a real doozy but an awesome and totally incredible doozy that I am so blessed to have as a memory in my life.

I often get asked, “So when are you going back to Ireland?”  By family, friends, Irish, Canadians, and Americans.  Everyone knows my heart remains in Ireland and always will.  However, I have been on this journey to listen to God and wait on him to take me back when he is ready.

In December 2011 I felt that God was calling me to stay in Abbotsford and make this my home for now until he took me on the adventure which is the rest of my life.  So, I stayed here.  And I’ve been here as a non-student for 2 years now.  I spent a long time struggling with why God told me to stay here.  I worked in various coffee shops and felt like God was a big dummy for not using me elsewhere.  But as time has gone on I have loved my time here and I am blessed by friends and family that have surrounded me and poured into my life over the last couple years.

I have certain friends in my life that when we get together, we always end up talking about where God is going to take us next.  We daydream about all the adventures we will go on and all the places we will see as we live out his calling on our lives wherever.

One of these friends is Brittani.  Brittani and I have been friends since my first year at Columbia and when we get together all we can talk about is our favorite romantic comedies, christmas, and what our lives will be like when we go back overseas one day.  We are planners.  We get together and throw around ideas of where we would go and what we would do.

Every time we do this, I go back to the same thing.  I want to go to Colorado and work in Greater Europe Mission Headquarters as Rod’s assistant for a couple years working with GEM K ministries.  I want to do that for X amount of years and after that head back overseas.  Perhaps I will go back to Ireland if God is so kind, or maybe he will lead me somewhere else in Europe.  Of that, I am not sure yet.  When I head back overseas I want to be a part of a church plant team and I want to work with youth.

And I want to do it for the rest of my life.

I have discussed this with Rod in the past and he is in full support of me coming to work with him.  However, my procrastination has always gotten the better of me and I haven’t begun the application process.  In January, I met with Brittani and we got to talking about living in Colorado and working with GEM K’s then heading over to Europe and working with youth there for the rest of my life and then I thought “I AM SUCH AN IDIOT!”

I have known that this is what God has been calling me to for so long, but I keep letting my fears get in the way and never follow through on that calling.  By the time Brittani and I had finished our dinner I knew I was going to start the application to go back and work with GEM in Colorado.

I made appointments to meet with like 7 of my mentors via skype and starbucks.  I talked to them all at length about this plan and they were all stoked about what God was doing in my life.  I filled out the first information form and mentioned Rod on it who was contacted and confirmed that there was a place for me there.  I then was invited to begin filling out the application.  I filled out the application on a Saturday afternoon in Alberta while on a work trip and spent about 4 hours pouring over these answers.

Once that was submitted, I got an email asking me for more paperwork and biographies on my life.  This email also said that if I finished filling out the paperwork in 10 days that I could be invited to candidate orientation in April.

This. Freaked. Me. Out.

In my mind, I was going to take a year to process through this application, then take a couple years to raise funds.  So, I would still have like 3 years in Abbotsford.  Suddenly, the realization that I could be accepted by April and starting to fundraise at that point made me panic.  I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Abbotsford yet!

And so I dug my feet in and halted in my tracks.  I had to get like 6 references and they all filled out their forms immediately.  For the last 6 months they have all been asking me every month or so, “So how’s your application coming?” And I’ve said, “uhhh…. I haven’t finished it yet…”

I have had the biography section of questions opened on my computer since February, literally.  And every time I start to fill out an answer I get overwhelmed and walk away or watch a tv show.

But, no more!  I am finishing this!  And I have until August to complete the application.  If I do, I can be invited to orientation in September and begin my fundraising (I think).  So, I sat down today to answer some questions and it asked, “How do you feel about raising prayer support?”  Then I thought, I should ask my friends to pray for me that I can overcome my procrastination and finish this.  However, I felt without the back story to how I got here everyone would just be like, “Whaaaa?  You’re applying to go back?!”

So here I am, telling you these plans that I am so stoked on, that God has blessed my mind with and has confirmed along the way.  I am pumped to see where he takes me and the adventure that will ensue.

Prayer Requests:

-THAT I CAN FINISH THIS APPLICATION!  I started it in January, there is no good reason why I haven’t finished it yet.  I once listed procrastination as a strength on a personal review.  Everyone was baffled by it and I told them, “I’m REALLY good at procrastinating…” but enough is enough!  Motivation!!

-That any fears associated with this will be replaced with peace, and that as God calls me in this direction that he will show me confirmation that I am headed the right way.

Grace and Peace!

Shanna

 

For those that don’t know where this is coming from -feel free to ask me in person about it.  I’d love to tell you.  If you want to read some blogs pre-this decision go ALLLL the way back to the very first blogs posted on this website and you will get to read about my adventures in Ireland all the way up to my decisions about why I am where I am today. But unless you love to read, it may be easier to just ask me.

Finding rest in the backcountry

Last year my housemate, Donna, went on a trip called “The GOOSE.”  The Goose is actually “G.O.S.E.” and stands for “Guiding and Operating Skills Exam.  One of our programs at the school has this final exam, and it is basically a week long back country camping trip where the students bring a couple of clients and have to keep them alive.

When Donna returned from this trip she told me all about it and it sounded AMAZING!  So, when I started working at the school I was determined to find out how I could go on this trip.  A couple months ago a mass email was sent out from the program director inviting staff and faculty to go on this trip as clients, I responded immediately requesting to go.

Photo Cred: Connor

They ended up having a smaller group of students this year, so they only needed one client, and I was it.  It was terrifying at first, the thought of all the attention being on me, but I was still stoked to go knowing I would get to camp and all fearful things are void when the peace of camping is close by.

A couple weeks before we were scheduled to head out I started getting really stressed out.  I had A LOT of stuff going on.  I was searching for a new apartment with 2 of my housemates, and anxiously re-doing my budget every day to plan for the expense of each new place we looked at, and mentally preparing for my new surroundings then deciding against them and having to start from scratch.

I had this week long trip coming up, after returning I was heading out for a week long work trip in Northern BC, and the week after that was heading to California for my brother’s graduation.  The thought of all these things coming up, and the amount of stuff that had to get done in between trips was giving me insomnia.

On top of all these things, I had relationship drama and was trying to process how best to move forward while respecting everyone involved and not being a total door mat.

I knew these things were stressing me out, but I couldn’t grasp the weight of all of these things together, which meant that any time something new came up I would take on the responsibility, because, hey! I had time, why not?  What I wasn’t getting was that while I may have had the physical time to take on new challenges, I did not have the mental capacity to put 100% into the projects.

My mind was not aware of the fact that I was crossing the line into anxiety and stress territory, but my body did.  My eye started twitching.  It happens to me pretty often, as I usually don’t know when I’m over-committing myself until it’s too late.  Along with the irritating flutter I started devouring my nails.  I usually bite my nails, but it was seriously bad, biting way too far and making myself bleed.

I talked to my friend Robin about it, nervous that I was about to head out on this week camping trip and I’m already so anxious and my body is trying to cope with all this stress.  I need some alone time, I can’t spend a week with a bunch of students!!  Robin, who has been on the trip before, calmed me by saying that when she was on the trip she found her time to be extremely rejuvenating even though she is an introvert.

I started packing for the trip the night before, my eye now twitching for 3 weeks straight.  I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I was ready for anything.

I woke up at like 5:45am to meet the students at the school and prepare to head out.  We crossed the border at 6:45 and my phone was shut off for the next 7 days.  It was the most blissful 7 days I’ve had in such a long time.

We drove 5 hours to Forks, WA.  When we got there people started mentioning how the town was just a logging community until Twilight happened and suddenly it started opening up Twilight souvenir shops and tours.  They pointed out a sign that marked the treaty line between the werewolves and the vampires, and the vampire warning level sign.  I then informed them that I read all the Twilight books and totally loved them.  I have no shame.

Every time we drove through Forks throughout that week, someone always asked something about vampires and I felt like a wealth of knowledge informing them of the facts about vampires, ::They live here because it rains so much and the sun makes them sparkle:: They have to move every 4 years so that schools don’t think it’s weird that they never age:: The werewolves are only present to protect the land from the Vampires, so once they leave they go back to growing up plain old humans:: etc, etc.

At one point we were driving past the high school and I wanted to see if it was the same school that they used in the movie (it wasn’t).  All I wanted was to spot it from a couple streets over, but the guy driving the car insisted on taking a detour to look at it.  Then there was that awkward moment when the student got on the walkie talkie to say, “We’re making a quick detour so Shanna can see the high school they used in the Twilight movie…” Like I said, no shame.

Hole-in-the-wall – Photo Cred: Kendal

For our trip we hiked along the Olympic coast, mostly the south side, but we spent a day on the North side to check out Hole-in-the-wall and Chilean memorial.  On that day we got to see a bunch of sea anemones and seals and we got to camp at Ellen’s creek which had an awesome spot to sit and watch the ocean.

Most of the campsites we stayed at had a toilet with 2 sides of a fence around it, and nothing but the serene outdoors as your view while you relieved yourself.  I, however, spent my entire time processing through what I would do if a bear or raccoon came out while I was sitting there.  It was a very stressful time for me, but in the end all my worry was for naught.

Ellen’s Creek – Photo Cred: Dana

That night at Ellen’s Creek I was sitting on a log and the two other girls on the trip came and sat by me.  We started having this deep talk about what we want to do with our lives and the one girl, Jess, asked me, “What’s your biggest fear?”  I said, “Probably being chased, or people jumping out at me.  I’m sure there are things I’d be more scared of, but those are the only things I’ve experienced that have made my heart race the most.”  Everyone else went around and talked about some things they’re scared of. (remember this story for later….)

The next day we went back into Forks to re-stock on groceries and hiked down to stay at Third Beach.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t find a safe campsite and had to hike back out and stay at camp Mora again. (Camp Mora was a general camp ground that we stayed at the first night, nothing special except real toilets which are always nice.)

The next day we hiked back down to Third Beach and on to Toleak Point.  This was my favorite day.  Of the 7 days on the trip this was the only day that it didn’t rain at all.  One other day it only rained a bit, and all of the other days it was either on and off rain or full downpours.

Note the mud on my pants – Photo Cred: Connor

We did a bit of inland trail which was super fun and muddy, but when you’re wearing rain pants it’s almost like your mind is convinced that you can’t actually get dirty so you just tromp confidently through the mud.  When we came out on the other side we headed to the sea caves which was one of the main things I wanted to see.  On our way over we heard this noise, like a short scream or cry.  As we got closer, we found a baby sea otter trapped behind a log and eagles circling overhead.

I. could. not. contain. my. emotions.  It was THEE cutest thing I’ve ever seen.  Everyone else was like, “Oh it’s so cute” and I was literally just standing there, grabbing my face and wailing.

We needed to head over to the sea caves before the tide came in, but watching the eagles loom overhead, I wasn’t sure how to proceed.  A couple other people decided to stay back, the baby sea otter was safe and we could explore the sea caves.  As we hopped throughout the rocks somebody yelled “Hey! Here’s the dead sea otter mom!”  Everyone started talking about skinning it and bringing it back with them.  All I could think about was how this baby was now for sure gonna die without it’s mom to protect it.  The guide for the day led me away from the dead mom and blocked my view from it which I will be eternally grateful for.

Photo Cred: Connor

When we got back from the sea caves the sea otter pup was gone.  I looked at someone and asked what happened to it, then I told them, “If it’s dead, I need you to lie to me and tell me it’s fine.”  They started telling me how the guys that stayed back helped it over the log, and walked it back to the water so the eagles wouldn’t get it.  Then people kept saying stuff like, “Yeah, the pup is safe and sound… in heaven…” or “The pup was alive… the last time we saw it….” – Baby sea otter, I hope you are alive and well wherever you are out there!

That night we stayed at Toleak point, which was the most beautiful campsite.  It was right off the beach and we all just sat on logs all night watching the sun set.  The toilet was a 3 minute walk down a path, and since it was dark I asked a couple of the other girls to walk with me (also, because no one likes to go to the bathroom alone, ESPECIALLY me.  I don’t know why, I think there is just comfort in knowing if you walk back with someone people are less suspicious of you.  But if you walk back by yourself people are like, “Where were you?” It’s quite intimidating)

These 2 girls and I are walking and suddenly Jess jumps out from behind a tree and screams, then she sees my face and is instantly horrified and starts apologizing profusely and telling me that she didn’t know I was with them or else she would have never done it.  I smacked her, and my emotions started to overcome me, my eyes started watering and Kendal yelled, “Jess, you made her cry!”  I wish I could say, “No, I just had something in my eye.”  But there was no fooling them, my emotions were so intense, my heart racing so fast that it was an entirely natural reaction for my eyes to water!  Stop judging me.  I am proud to say, however, that I did hold them back, and no tears fell down my cheek.  Keep in mind that I did say my biggest fear was people jumping out at me.

The next day we got to sleep in and hang out on the beach for a bit waiting for the tide to go down.  We hiked some more inland trails, some parts were a bit more terrifying than others, specifically the parts that were steep dirt hills with ropes to hold onto so you don’t plummet to your death.

At one point, I had a guide walk down a hill holding onto the rope in front of me, and at the bottom of the hill was the top of a wooden ladder that I had to climb down, again with ropes just hanging there, falling vertically, reminding you that if you slipped and weren’t holding onto them, that you would die.  I stood at the top of this ladder and looked down, only to see the program director with this huge smile and giving me a thumbs up.

I survived.

And as people followed me down and we all met at the bottom I kept saying, “Man, wasn’t that scary!?”  And they all appeased me and said that it was, bless their hearts.

Photo Cred: Connor

That night we stayed at Mosquito Creek which sounds grosser than it was, I didn’t see any mosquitos.  There was this one particular spot in the campsite where there were openings in the trees and it overlooked the ocean.  I sat there for a while watching the waves, hoping to see a whale (which I did not) and thinking about life.  Meanwhile, all the students were explaining their first aid procedures from earlier to the examiners.

I sat there thinking about how much I love my life, and how many opportunities God gives me to do exciting new things.  I thought about how much I love camping and the ocean, and being in God’s creation.  I thought about how if my situation in life was any different, if I was married, had kids, or had a different job, how it would have been incredibly more difficult to find the time to experience this.  I thought about how much I loved being disconnected from the world.  And then I realized, my eye hasn’t twitched all week.  And suddenly was overwhelmed with joy at how awesome God is, and how one week away from life can calm me down.

Later that night, I was freezing and had tons of layers on.  Two students were making funnel cakes for dessert and I was watching it in fascination.  They gave me the first funnel cake and I held it on a plate in my hand.  I looked at the funnel cake, then at the glove covering my hand, then at the funnel cake, then at the glove.  I started wiping my hand on my side trying to push the glove off (still not sure why I didn’t just set the funnel cake down, maybe it looked too good to set down?) and then the one student said “here” and held out his hand… PROBABLY to hold the funnel cake, so I could take my glove off.  However, still determined to not let this funnel cake out of my grasp, I held my hand out and he took my glove off for me.  Is this the epitome of laziess?  Maybe.

Photo Cred: Kendal

The next day we started hiking to oil city.  It was a lot more inland trail and on and off rain, but I loved every second of it.  When we got to Oil City I was told we could either camp in the rain (which was down pouring) or hike the half mile back to the van and head home.  I said, “I really like camping…” So the guide started to look for a campsite.  While he was gone, some of the other students came up to me and were like, “Really?  Are you sure?  Do you really want to camp here?  It’s gonna keep raining… ARE YOU SURE?”

Luckily, the guide got back and there wasn’t a campsite we could stay at so we had to move ahead anyway.  We were gonna spend another night at the Mora campsite, which if that was the case I would rather go home anyway.  However, on our last little trek back to the van there was a creek that was like 5 feet wide.  Everyone walked across it on rocks.  When I got there, I stepped on a rock, which my foot promptly slipped off filling my boot with water, and since it was the end of our journey anyway I decided to just tromp through without care of how wet my socks would get.

By the time we got back to the van it was decided that we would travel back to Abbotsford that night.

We all changed into our van clothes and hopped in nice and dry.  I sat in the front which I got the entire time in an effort to save me from car sickness.  After I hopped in Harry, one of the interns, told me that he thought I was a natural hiker which I laughed out loud at.  Anyone who knows my experience hiking in New York knows I was a vehement hater of the activity for most of my life.  Then the director, Chris, started agreeing with him and the two of them started talking about how I didn’t have any injuries and how I didn’t complain during the hike (which is also something that would have never happened on a hike in NY, I would have used any air that I had to complain about the hike which is probably why I was always so winded at the end).  However they came to the conclusion, it was super encouraging of them to say which I thank them for.

We got home at 5am on Sunday and I went into my room and fell asleep.  I woke up at 11am, and I kid you not, my eye started twitching again within minutes of waking up.

I learned and saw a ton on this trip and enjoyed my time immensely.  I cannot wait to go on my next backcountry camping trip.  I even got a dehydrator at MCC for $6.75 and am currently giving it its first test run dehydrating apples as I type.  Once I master this, I will dehydrate everything and be fully prepared for all my meals.

But my absolute favorite parts about this trip (other than the super awesome students that I got to know) was being able to just sit in peace enjoying all that my creator made for me.

Photo Cred: Josh

There is no one alive who is youer than you

My current inner turmoil is in the amount that I share with others.  Well, buckle up kids cause I’m about to share heaps.

Someone decided to point out to me recently that I share far too much.  I mean, people tell me I talk too much and talk too loud quite often, I’m actually pretty insecure about it most of the time because I know that this is what a lot of people think of me.  But recently someone told me that there is nothing that I keep to myself.  I highly doubt that they said this knowing the amount of thought I would put into their words after they said them.

I spent about a week trying to keep everything to myself.  If anything good or bad happened to me, I was super aloof about it.  People would ask me how my day was and I would say good, followed by a series of questions to distract them from asking me any more about myself.  I liked the novelty of this new practice because it reminded me of characters I’ve always read about in books.

I am so fascinated by characters who are quiet.  They are just as adventurous and opinionated as anyone else, but they are mysterious.  I invest in these characters and long to be like them, like Elizabeth Bennett, witty and brave, but able to keep just enough from the world that people long to know her better.  Unfortunately, I am not Elizabeth Bennett, I share everything, there is no mystery in my eyes, ya know?

But even in my efforts to be secretive and keep things to myself, I was losing my mind.  I had to tell myself all the funny stories that happened at the end of every day because I felt like I was going to explode with stories.  When you are an authentically awkward person, your life is endless amounts of stories.  If you don’t tell them to someone, they can quickly turn from funny to uncomfortable.

So then I tried to find a middle ground.  I decided I would share my funny stories with people who are close to me and be more aloof with acquaintances and strangers.  I still couldn’t do it.  Some random would look at me and say, “How’s it going, Shanna?”  I would say good and they would look at me with these eyes like, “tell me a story, tell me a story!” Suddenly the stories were flowing out of me again.

To be fair, I used to keep things to myself and then I watched multiple relationships destroy themselves with lack of communication and I decided I never wanted that to happen to me.  I actually wrote off relationships at all for a while because I watched so many fall apart.  And in my natural subtlety, when one particular guy started flirting with me I responded with, “Shut your mouth or I’ll punch you in the face!”  I realize now that this was probably harsher than necessary.

So, now as I try to meander my way around this middle ground, I find myself waiting all day to tell people stories in real life and sometimes the people who end up hearing them don’t really care all that much.  Meanwhile, some of my closest friends who LOVE hearing my awkward stories are only able to see them via the interwebs because an 8 hour time difference doesn’t accommodate daily phone calls.

Anyways, all that to say, I have a lot of awkward stories that I haven’t been sharing in an effort to minimize my audience for the sake of suiting others.  But I really have no desire to minimize my audience.  I mean, I have a desire to keep at least one portion of myself for a special someone.  Part of me likes the novelty in having one person who gets to hear every story.  But until that one special person exists in my life, I might as well share with everybody.  Because seriously, who needs another exclusive friendship in their lives?  I think people are far too exclusive, let’s all just be friends with everyone and save the cliques (american pronunciation) for the keyboard.  AmIright or amIright?

That being said, here are some awkward stories from this weekend for your enjoyment:

I  drove to Chapters in Langley to return a book.  I walk up and the lady at the register asks me if there was a reason for me returning it. I said, “I bought this copy because it was the only one that didn’t have a picture from the movie on the cover, but I saw a smaller paperback version in another chapters, so I know the type of copy I want exists.  I mean, this copy is so big that I would only ever be able to read it in my room.  Clearly I am never going to be able to fit this into my purse and take it to a coffee shop with me.”  She was like, “I’ll just select, ‘not as expected’ then.”

Then she asks for my name, phone number and address.  Knowing full well that I accidentally mix up the numbers in my address quite often, I said every part of the address very slowly and thoughtfully, looking to the ceiling to make sure I was remembering it right.  The lady was like, “Did you just move?” And I said, “No, I’m just a little dyslexic sometimes.”  She gets visibly awkward at this point, playing with the scarf around her neck and apologizing to me.  I said, “Oh, No!  I’m just kidding, I’m not actually dyslexic.”  This was the point in our interaction that I started to feel bad for her getting me as a customer.

Then, after church yesterday, I’m standing in the aisle and this elderly woman walks into the room.  There is another woman standing in the window behind her knocking on it to get her attention but she doesn’t hear it.  The elderly woman is about 20 feet from me so I start pointing at the woman in the window behind her and telling her to turn around.  The elderly lady can’t hear me at all.  She looks at me for a while, then points to herself to ask if I’m talking to her.  I nod and make a turn around motion with my finger and point at the window.  The elderly woman very slowly turns around doing a whole 360 while looking at the ground then she looks up at me, smiles, and slowly walks up to me to find out what I wanted.  I just laughed and pointed out the woman in the window, who surprisingly still hadn’t walked the 5 feet around the corner to talk to this elderly woman.

Although others probably think I should just calm down, sometimes I wish I could be bolder because I let hilarious moments pass me by.  One time I was on the beach and there were like 30 people standing in a huddle about a half mile away from me.  The thought crossed my mind that I should run over there and pretend that they are a flock or birds, I should run through them, jumping around and waving my arms frantically so that they all flew away.  My friend with me was totally supportive of my idea, and if the group wasn’t a half a mile away I probably would have done it.  But I didn’t and I should have.

It’s remembering moments like this that I think, who cares if the person next to me is a little embarrassed by my ridiculousness!  I had a friend once tell me that they “pulled a Shanna” and they described the term as doing something embarrassing in an irreversible sort of way.  I’ve also had people tell me that the things I’ve done in front of them are such a Shanna thing to do.

Sometimes I hear this and wonder if I should be offended by these comments, but then again, I guess it means that they don’t know anyone else like me which makes me feel pretty special.  It’s like the whole idea that loving deeper puts you at greater risk of being hurt.  The deeper your feelings, the more vulnerable you are.

In the same way, the more bold your life may be, the more open you are to the disapproval of others, or people making comments that you are “too much” or “too different.”  Being bold doesn’t mean you have to be crazy, it just means you have to be genuine, confident enough to risk sharing your true self with someone else.  I am crazy.  Like, legitimately ridiculous.  You don’t have to be me to be bold.  In fact, I don’t want you to be.  I just want you to be you.

Who cares if someone thinks you look weird.  The week before I left for Christmas I decided to dress “christmasy” every day.  One day, I wore a green dress with yellow tights and a white cardigan so I could look like elf.  Did I look weird? No, I actually looked totally normal.  When people found out that I was intentionally trying to look like elf, did they think I was weird?  Yes, yes they did.  But who cares?  You have to take a risk and open yourself up, so that you can fully live.  Seriously, being constantly terrified of what the world defines as normal is exhausting.

If God didn’t want me to be so ridiculous, then he probably shouldn’t have put me in so many ridiculous situations.  That being said, it is safe to assume that he has a purpose in my ridiculousness.  Plus, it always makes a good story and makes me laugh.  I love laughing, so why would I ever want to keep something that makes me laugh to myself?  It’s too difficult to be someone else (unless it’s for a costume party).  Honestly, trying to neatly contain myself is exhausting.

So that settles it.  Sharing = good.  At least in my case.

There’s freedom in being exactly who God made you to be, as crazy and ridiculous or subtle and serious as that may be.  Just be genuine, be bold.  Let’s get real, we all know it’s the best roast of coffee anyway.

Went to Seattle, stereotyped everybody.

I am on a trip.  It began with heading to Seattle:

So, I left yesterday afternoon, right after I found out America was closed.  I took a shuttle from Bellingham to Seattle with the most talkative bus driver.  I’ve ridden on his shuttle before, I remember his name and his face and the amount he talked over the loudspeaker.  He get’s on his little walkie talkie thing and just…. Talks…. Some of the information he gives is relevant, some of it he is required to share for safety purposes, and some of it is him rambling on.

I got off there and headed to a train that takes me into Seattle.  I asked someone for help as I was totally lost and turns out he was headed in the same direction and the train was still half a mile down through the parking garage, so we got to know each other pretty well.

He asked me where I was from and I said, “Uhhh…. Canada?”  That was the first time I referred to myself as “from Canada.”  It was weird, but I guess there’s a first for everything.  I can’t tell if that means it’s time for me to move or I’m just embracing where I am at these days?

I took this train into Seattle which is basically the cleanest city I’ve ever seen in my life.  Even the dirty towns were spotless and shiny.  I ended up getting off at the last stop, then searching the streets for a bus stop.  There were, like, 7 bus stops on this one block, it was ridiculous.  I kept asking people for help with directions but no one knew where I was trying to go.

I ended up finding my bus stop, except there was my bus stop and then a bus stop in the middle of the road.  What does that even mean?!  I wanted to ask another person for help but I was only surrounded by men wearing baggy hoodies and smoking pot in this dark corner and yelling swear words and the N-word at each other.  I kept looking around hoping to find a woman walking by that I could ask.  Women are way less scary than men.

I decided I shouldn’t stereotype people.  Maybe these guys were really nice.  I walked up and said, “Sorry, excuse me?  Do you know if busses come to this stop or do I need to be in that stop in the middle of the road?”  The man looked me up and down with this stare like, “Who do you think you are to talk to me?”  It was terrifying, so I smiled at him.

He walked over and said, “If it’s not on the sign it won’t be here.”  Looking at me as if I was the dumbest person in the world for not knowing the fundamental rules to public transit.

I asked again if the bus would come to this stop or if I had to be in the middle of the road and he helped me figure out where I was going.  It wasn’t so bad.

I stood there waiting for my bus (which never came.  My friend had to come pick me up.) and these guys kept yelling at each other, swearing and smoking pot, and coughing so much like they’d never smoked before but they thought they were super cool.  It wasn’t one person, it was, like, all of them, just coughing away.

At one point a car full of guys pulled up by me, and they started yelling to the guys behind me.  My stereotypes, imagination, and television shows told me that I should fear a drive by as the city is filled with hoodlums and gangsters and I was on the wrong side of the street.

So these guys pull up and they’re yelling somebody’s name and this guy walks up behind me to the car and hands the passenger an iPod.  He called the guy the N-word mumbled some slang and said, “Here you go, go eat a flapjack.”

Um, what?

I like that I was basically foreseeing my death as I was surrounding myself with people the world describes as dangerous, and he tells his buddy to “go eat a flapjack.”  Now, maybe I’m just ignorant and “eating a flapjack” actually means “go f- yourself.”  But as far as I can tell, this fella’s biggest crime was loving breakfast.  But we are engrained to fear for our lives when people that look a certain way surround us.

I went on this trip to Vancouver last weekend where I led a team as they served in the Downtown Eastside.  The DTES is filled with people who are described as criminals, worthless, scary, junkies.  I’ve heard stories of people locking their doors as they drive down hastings and mothers telling their children to close their eyes while they drive by all the people.

These people are treated like animals, they are stripped of their dignity because we are scared of anyone who is genuine enough to share their struggles on the outside.  I might not agree with everything someone does, but something I am learning is that as a Christian God calls me to show people dignity.

He calls me to love.  What does that mean exactly?  We all have these different ideas of what is’t like to love someone.  For some it means shouting at someone that they are going to hell to “make them aware of their need for repentance.”  For some it means accepting everything a person chooses to do, supporting them in those choices, and defending their resistance to change as an inability to change.

I think loving someone means treating them with dignity regardless of the choices they make, the demons they are slaves to, or their grumpy attitudes on dreary mornings.

Whether I agree with your choices or not, I am called to love you, to treat you with dignity, and to serve you the way Jesus did to those around him.  That’s the big thing about Jesus though, hey?  It wasn’t that he ignored their sins, he didn’t approve their sins, he told them to “sin no more.”  But regardless of their stage in life, their past choices or current struggles, he treated them with dignity.  He spoke to women, he touched lepers, he smelled the smelly.  Who someone was or what they had done did not alter the way he treated them.  He continued to speak truth, to love them, to show them respect and dignity, to see their value hiding under rugged exteriors.  And that is what we are called to as well.  To love the soft turtle skin under the rock hard shell.

You, as a person, are more important to Jesus than your actions.  It doesn’t give you a free pass to do whatever the heck you want, you are called to more.  But regardless of where you are at in your walk, you are valued, you deserve dignity and respect, you deserve love.  My money and health do not place me above you.  My heart places me at the same level as you.  We are equal, so let’s treat each other with the love that comes out of that truth.

Redirecting Route…

I went on my first scooting adventure of the season this weekend.  It was a balmy 21 degrees celsius, about 70 Fahrenheit.  It was beautiful.

I like to scoot on back roads for about an hour and then try and find my way out, and having not worn my “summer helmet” (no face shield) for about 6 months, I’ve forgotten how dense the bugs feel when they punch you in the face.  Nevertheless, my scoot was glorious, and I could finally scoot freely without the constraints of a jacket or full length pants.

I kept finding myself wanting to shut my eyes and pull a Meg Ryan in City of Angels, but about 2 seconds in I would remember that’s how Meg Ryan died and begrudgingly open my eyes back up.  It’s weather like this that reminds me why selling my car and buying a scooter was such a good choice for me.  Yes, my winters tend to be hermit-ish and I can’t drop everything and visit my friends an hour away, but when the sky breaks apart and the sun shines through the clouds I literally feel bliss as the wind hits my face and I feel my creator’s gift of such beautiful nature.

I had to get back home to meet someone for a dinner, so I decided to look up my quickest route home on my phone. And as I scooted, I kept thinking about God and his love for me, and then I would hear, “turn left in 400 meters.”  And that got me thinking…

GPS systems make a really great metaphor for the way God directs us.  As we go along our path he says, “Take a left in 400 meters” or feet if you are currently residing in America, and we can take a left and be one step closer to being home.

But sometimes as we approach our left hand turn we think, “That doesn’t look right, I don’t remember that on the way here…”  Or sometimes we get a rush from being lost and so we pass our turn just for the sake of “adventure.”  Or sometimes you are totally oblivious to the fact that you missed your turn because you were too caught up in your own stuff.  And then we hear those 2 super frustrating words, “redirecting route…”

But, if we don’t take the correct turn the GPS will always redirect our route or tell us to “make the next available u-turn.”  And we have a choice whether to follow the directions or not.

Sometimes we get super pissed at GPS systems, don’t we?  We just start freaking out at this computer because we think it is taking us the stupidest way to get to our destination.  But sometimes God has a bigger plan than for us to just get there.

But here’s my favorite similarity between God and GPS systems.  When we get totally lost and we are so pissed at our GPS for getting us to what we would consider to be nowhere, our GPS never say, “Welp, you’re out of luck!  Screw you, for thinking you can do it on your own!  This is for naming me after that horrible woman you know!  Find your own way out of this mess!”  Our GPS systems never say, “I give up on you.”  Although it would be quite comical to have your GPS tell you that.

But, how often do we give up?  How often do we say, “This thing has no idea where I am!  It is so stupid!” And then we shut it off because we can’t handle it anymore?  How often do we give up on God?  And fight with him at every turn?  And have total lack of faith in his ability to get us to where we need to go?

I mean, when was the last time you followed your GPS all the way to the end and it wasn’t where you were supposed to be?  I mean other than map quest, because map quest was the womps and took you to the middle of the desert to die.  God is leading us to him, if we just trust him.  He’s not gonna lead you to the desert to die, well at least he’s not gonna lead you to the desert to die in vain.

Which has the most power?

I have had countless people come up to me in my short 24 years of life and tell me, “When I first met you, I hated you!  But now I love you.”  Most of these experiences happened in high school or shortly after.  I think once people hit their 20’s they have more manners than to walk up to someone and say they used to hate them, so I can’t recall it happening recently.

My friend Rachel and I discussed what it was that made this such a common thing for people to say to me.  No doubt my natural frown factors in there somewhere, but Rachel mentioned that when I first meet people I am genuine and open with them which is really uncommon.  So perhaps they thought I was actually being fake, or they just hated it.  But, after getting to know me and realizing that’s just who I am they usually warm up to the idea of someone who is always frowning but usually happy.  I am a natural phenomenon, people!  I think that’s used in the right context.  If not, oh well.

Being so open about myself in my friendships and even on the internet, it’s a wonder why I can’t be more open about bad stuff.  Like, it feels impossible sometimes to say to someone, “I’m not doing well” or “I need help.”

I feel like people who have known me for longer than a day and heard any of my stories should be able to piece together the fact that I have an addictive personality.  People can’t get enough of it!  ha! pfff something like that.  But, without doing any research whatsoever I am going to go out on a limb here and say that based on what I think I’ve heard through the grapevine and on tv and based on my own personal experience, I am like 70% sure that personalities are hereditary.  And my parents have struggled with addictions to things.

All that being said, I have a tendency to get addicted to things easily, and some of those addictions result in me not doing so well.  But I have freedom in Christ soooooo, tendency isn’t fact, and I have a choice in the matter.

I will admit, however, I like being addicted to things.  One time when I was living in Dublin I was having a bad day and I walked to Starbucks and ordered 2 shots of Espresso.  And as I sat there looking out the window into all the rain and gulped back a sip of bitter goodness I held my head in my hands and thought to myself, espresso is my hard liquor.  Then I looked at the little girl sitting at the table next to me and said, “This is rock bottom, kid.  Don’t let yourself get to this point….”  That last part was a lie, but the rest was true.

I love being addicted to coffee, and I have admitted to some people that I like to be known for things.  This blog wouldn’t be in true Shanna fashion if I didn’t embarrass myself, so, I have admitted to some people that the reason I love being addicted to things so much is because then people will remember that about me.  Like, at my funeral, my sister-in-law Becca knows that when there is a awkward silence she should chime in, “Man, Shanna loved coffee.”  And I guess in my morbid mind, being addicted to little things like coffee means when people think of coffee they’ll think of me.  And we all like to be thought about right?

I’m pretty sure I’ve said before, many times, that I am addicted to television.  And now having nightmares all the time, my television watching has turned from a mindless activity to calm down at the end of the day to intentionally choosing shows that will let me zone out and fill my head with jokes rather than horrifying murder stories.

Yesterday I was watching the Biggest Loser during my workout and I realized the commercials were even for shows that were super violent and showed a lot of the violence in their 30 second segment.  So even my peaceful shows end up filling me with violent stuff.

So, if I enjoy watching television, how can I watch my shows without watching the crap that goes along on the side?  I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.  And I’m finding that no matter what I do to get away from the violence, I really can’t ever get away from it.  The thought of never watching tv again makes me feel like a part of me is dying, so maybe we’ll start with a bit of a detox.

Here’s my other thing:  A big reason why I watch the tv I do is for the love stories in it, right?  I feel like I get so much fulfillment from watching a screen, and I don’t think that is very healthy.  The last couple weeks I’ve thought, I should probably stop watching tv, but I don’t want to stop watching it.  But, I’ve made my decision.  I am going to stop watching tv and movies and youtube videos for a while.

I’m not sure how long I’ll stop for, but I do know that I need to cut everything out.  Even the stuff that doesn’t seem like an issue.  Because even the dumbest and most pointless of cartoons still have messages in them.  And I am not sure if those messages are what I want to be learning.

But, right now, television and movies have a power over me that I am not comfortable with them having.  And Satan has power over television and movies that most people are not aware that he has.  But, ya know what Satan doesn’t have power over?  Jesus, and his ability to save us from any addiction or fear.

It really comes down to this:  Do I believe, and genuinely desire that Jesus has more power over my life than entertainment?  And if that is what I want, then, although it will be difficult, I need to let go of the things that blur that line.

What’s inside you.

Back in October or November I started getting these spider bites in the middle of the night.  I would get bit just once or twice every week or 2 and they would be incredibly itchy to the point where I scratched until I bled quite often (I have no self control).  I sprayed raid all under my bed which cleared me for about a month, and then the little bugger came back.

I live with 11 other people and none of them have gotten any spider bites.  I had a roommate the entire time I was getting bit, only sleeping a mere 5 feet from me, yet she never got a single bite.  Other housemates have said they have seen spiders in their rooms but have never been bitten.  So suddenly I had a thought, “What if this thing biting me, is targeting me specifically?  What if whatever this is, is bigger than just a bug bite?  What if this is spiritual?”

I moved my bed, cleaned my room, sprayed raid again, and prayed that if this thing biting me is something spiritual attacking me, that God would get rid of it.  Well, it’s been over a month I haven’t been bitten again yet, but who knows, maybe he’s just being dormant for a while.

After the spider bites stopped I started getting really weird dreams.  I mean like crazy, evil dreams.

The weirdness all began about a month and a half ago.  I kept having these dreams that I was deaf.  People kept trying to talk to me and they would yell in my ear and I still couldn’t hear them.  Normally, having this dream wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I had this dream 4 times in various contexts.

And for the last month I have had a very vivid, evil, scary dream every single night.  Some of them include me or other people being attacked, some are of people as slaves, some have murders, some have rapists, some have demons.  But whatever the dream’s context, I am always in danger of whatever is going on around me.

I knew something was going on and I was sick of being scared to fall asleep so I prayed that God would protect my dreams and keep any evil spirits out of my head.  But all of these dreams didn’t really scare me into any sort of action.  See, before today I hadn’t been to church in probably 2 months.  I really hadn’t spent any significant time with God, just random time when I have nothing else to do.  I was watching tv shows that I really shouldn’t have been watching (I attribute most of the violence in my dreams to these shows).  I had someone tell me that I should question what I was watching but I was intrigued, I didn’t want to stop watching my shows.

I actually lied in bed, praying about how I didn’t want to stop watching my shows, I didn’t want to wake up on Sunday, I didn’t want to exert any energy for the sake of obedience.  I wanted to be nominal.  And I was mad because literal billions of people in this world are nominal and none of them see demons and get bit by spiders.  Why am I not allowed to be nominal?

Finally, I had my scariest dream.  I was trying to get to this thing called Missions Fest, and I was walking up and down the highway trying to get there, but there kept being road blocks or detours or whatever.  And then I heard that there was this room that you could step in and it would teleport you to Missions Fest.  The only catch was, the room was possessed by a demon.  Well, I went to the room and I was standing outside the door watching all of these other people take one step in and disappear as they swooshed to Missions Fest.  So I thought, “Hey, I’m a Christian.  I’m not in any danger of a demon, I’ll be fine.”

I took one step into the room and was lifted off the ground.  The demon lifted my body off of the floor, spun me around in the air a couple times and then slowly laid me on the bed in the room, holding me down so that I couldn’t move at all.  I felt it push me into the mattress and cover me with a blanket to smother me there.  I lied there in my dream, terrified, unable to move at all, praying that God would save me and just let me get to Missions Fest.  And suddenly I was demon possessed.  Then I woke up.

That finally scared me enough.  I text my mentor and asked if we could meet, I text one other friend and asked them to pray for me without giving any details.  The next morning I made myself some coffee, sat by a fire, and pulled out my journal and Bible and started talking to him again.  I pointed out to God, again, that I’m not like the worst or anything, it’s not like I’ve turned my back on him or doubt him in any way, I’m just being apathetic.

This was now last week.  I’ve stopped watching most of my shows, I’ve been praying every night that God would protect my dreams, I’ve been spending time with him every day and I feel better.  I feel closer to him.  But I’m still having dreams.  Some nights aren’t so bad, but some are really bad.  A lot of the dreams have actual characters from tv shows, but they don’t make sense.  Like, last night the trainer from biggest loser was being attacked.  And one night there were child soldiers practicing their shooting in a library in the states.

When I met with my mentor she prayed for me and I mentioned this frustration to her.  Like, billions of people are being nominal all the time, why is it such a big deal that I’m being nominal?

But those billions of people aren’t me.  And I know better.

Today at church we had communion and as I sat there holding the chex and the juice in my hand I thought about the Holy Spirit.  I am filled with the Spirit.  I have been baptized in the Spirit, it flows through me, it resides in every inch of me, in every skin cell, in every micro-organism-thinger-ma-bobber, in every brain cell.  And a body that is entirely consumed in the Holy Spirit can not be wasted by apathy.  God won’t allow it.

I am not permitted to be nominal because the Spirit actively resides in me.  And because I am open to the spiritual world, when I slack on one area here or there, they pounce.  They are constantly looking for a weakness, and when they find one they are not going to wait around for me to notice.  And so they attack me full force, in every area of my life, and even in my dreams.

Suddenly I got this inspiration to start a Bible study and I started day dreaming about it for an actual hour.  I just sat there thinking, staring out the window.  And I thought, “no, me and God are just getting back on track.  I can’t start anything now.”  But then I thought, “Why would I wait until I am perfect to learn and grow with other people who are just as broken as me?”  So if you think of it, pray for me and for this study that God would lead me in the direction he would like it to go.

As I stared at communion this morning and prayed I got a picture of Jesus and the Spirit, and as I ate it I got a picture of the Spirit filling me.  The Spirit is inside me, screaming to reach out, to touch lives around me, to praise God and bring glory to him.  And the Spirit inside me is bigger than everything else.  It fills me, it strengthens me, it protects me, it saves me, and it uses me.  It doesn’t go dormant, it doesn’t leave, it doesn’t abandon me, it doesn’t get nominal.  It just continues to work and I’m not allowed to ignore it.

Step 3: Pressing on through fear

This is a scary blog for me.  Being this vulnerable makes me want to vomit.  I guess if anyone takes advantage of it I’ll just do the usual, “threaten them true American style, accept their apology immediately, and be their doting best friend.”

I haven’t posted in 2 weeks about my health challenge.  But, my lack of post does not mean a lack of work.  In the last 2 weeks I have lost 4 more pounds.  I’ve been watching the biggest loser and I see these people losing 20 pounds one week, 12 the next.  It is very possible to see that and get discouraged with only 1, 2, or 3 pounds coming off each week.  But I keep reminding myself that I am not doing this to lose a whole bunch of weight.  I mean, that is a natural effect from changing your lifestyle.  But I am doing this to get healthy, and ya know what, I feel healthy.

I feel like I have energy during the day, and am able to go to bed at night, I feel confident, I feel like I’m doing something!

This last week was rough for me, I was really lethargic and slept a lot.  There are really a whole bunch of reasons for this but one that is always pretty relevant is when there is a day celebrating people in love.

Ok, so blogs are supposed to be open and vulnerable right?  And on top of that writing blogs about your physical well being reaallyy makes you vulnerable.  And that is scary.  But I’m just gonna put this out there and maybe it’ll be really awkward, and I’ll be super uncomfortable for a while, but then maybe I’ll get over it.

I was watching the biggest loser and all of the trainers were wanting to understand why the children were over eating.  For some it was stress, for some it was laziness.  But what is it that makes us give up?  This one girl was talking about how her parents have pressured her and she is scared of failing.  It is easier to blame your failure on the fact that you are overweight than admit that you just don’t have what it takes.

So how does this relate to me?  I am 24 and I have been overweight since I was probably 10 years old.  In my 24 years of life I have liked my fair share of fellas, and in 24 years I have never heard a guy say he liked me.  I have never heard through the grape vine that some guy liked me.  And over and over again I have had these huge crushes and they just kinda turn into nothing.  The guy never says anything and I move on eventually.

I have had guy friends say to me, “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”  Which alway baffles me.  It always ends up that those who are unavailable think really highly of me I guess.  I have a whole bunch of reasons in my head of why no guy has ever thought of me as worth pursuing.  “It’s probably because I don’t have a filter and I’m a liability in public.”  “Or it’s because I’m too intimidating.”  “Or it’s because they’ve seen me eat spaghetti.”  “Or it’s because I’m overweight and although my personality is like stars and unicorns there still needs to be an attraction and guys think I’m totally awesome but they ‘just aren’t attracted to me like that.”

I don’t think I realized this until this last week.  I didn’t realize why things like valentines day make me want to not care about my health.  But suddenly it hit me, if I am overweight then I can blame guys not liking me on the fact that I am fat.  But if I lose a bunch of weight and get really healthy and they still don’t like me, well then it’s just ME.  And who wants to think that?

I always have a hard time talking about this stuff seriously.  It is way easier to make a joke about how I never want to get married or about the awkward interactions I have with guys than admit to all this stuff and let it be real.  I always have this fear that I’ll say it and people will read it and be like, “Woah, desperate! Honey, let’s buy Shanna a cat for her birthday this year.”  Or the ever dreadful, “I should set you up.”  Or the “You just need to wait for God’s timing.”  Oh, the things we say to comfort another…

But, I’m not desperate.  I know that’s not where my value comes from and I don’t NEED to be married to be happy.  And I am waiting on God, I think if I wasn’t then I probably would be living a very different lifestyle.  But I need to keep reminding myself that I am doing this to be healthy, to glorify God, to treat God’s gifts with respect.  And if I get healthy and nothing changes, well then that’s ok too.  Like I said, this is for God and me.  Not anyone else.

Irrational fear confession time

Everybody has them.  Don’t even pretend you don’t.  I mean, someone says they are afraid of clowns and everybody thinks it’s a big joke…. gtm.  But the definition of fear is: An unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

If I see a clown I am not going to run and hide.  But, I can totally understand why someone would think that an adult wearing a ton of makeup and so many bright colors, hanging out with children would be totally horrifying.  We end up having sensory overload, some of us react with laughter, but some of us react with tears too.  And that’s ok.

So here is my confession.  I am afraid of doing new things alone.  If I have to do something for the first time by myself and I am going to be in front of a bunch of people I start to think about all the mistakes I’ll make.  Like, I’ll sit in someone’s seat, or I’ll drive in the wrong entrance, or I’ll walk in the door and be on the stage.  And I think about these things happening in front of a bunch of strangers and then they’ll laugh at me cause I’m the idiot that walked through the wrong door and then I’ll sit down and not a single one will say anything to me.

Story time:

When I was in 9th grade I transferred to a public school, the only person I knew in the whole place was my brother who was popular and who was in a different lunch period than me.  The first day I walked in and asked if I could sit with these girls, they spent the entire period talking to only each other.  The second day I asked if I could sit with another table of girls, they spent the entire period talking about all the guys they slept with over summer break.  The third day I thought, “I’m just gonna sit at a table and whoever sits around me, sits around me.  Turns out there was one table every period that no one sat at.  Guess which table that was.  So I spent the entire period at this circle table by myself, I remember I was wearing overalls (who wouldn’t want to sit by me!?).

So, this fear that I have isn’t just random.  It’s a fear because it has happened to me before.  Many times.

Why am I blogging about this fear?  Because I had it this morning, and I’ve been having it a lot lately in regards to church.  I grew up going to the same church my whole life, everyone knows me, I know what doors I should or should not walk in, and I know there will always be someone there that I know.  Even my entire time at school it wasn’t a big deal because I always had friends to go with.

I have people I could go to church with now but most of them are there with their significant others and I don’t want to be that clingy friend that follows them around on Sundays.  And I’ve gone to church by myself for a while and once past the initial fear it isn’t so bad, except I find it absolutely exhausting to meet new people.  So, the first sunday I meet someone, the next sunday they don’t remember who I am and I have to meet someone else.  And it keeps going until it gets to the point where I’m like, I’ve been going to this church for 6 months why the heck can’t people remember someone they talk to every week?!

So I wake up Sunday morning, and I lie in bed and I think about all the things that could go wrong when I try to go by myself, and I end up getting myself so overwhelmed that I just decide it would be better for me to stay home and try again next week.  Until all of the sudden I realize, I haven’t been to church in a month.  At this rate, I am totally nominal.  And here’s the really sucky thing, I love church.  I love going to church.  I love sermons and singing worship songs and corny announcements.

Sometimes people ask what my hobbies are and I never know what to say, “uhhh, I like Facebook?”  I was asked this in an interview a couple weeks ago and I told my housemate about it and she was like, “you like blogging don’t you?” hah, oh yeah…  But, as I was writing this particular blog I realized, church is totally my hobby.  And so, I am not enjoying one of my two hobbies because I am filled with fear of being alone and doing something stupid.  Which if we’re being honest, happens when I try to avoid it anyway.

Now to finish the story from the beginning:

I had my back to most of the cafeteria, and I could hear this girl talking at a table behind me.  “Is it a new kid?  Should we ask them to sit with us?  I think it’s a new kid.”  And then this girl walks up behind me and asks me if I’d like to join their table.  I did and then 2 minutes later the bell rang.

That afternoon on our way home from school I told my brother Jeff how pumped I was that I found a table to sit at.  And he goes, “now tomorrow, just sit down at their table again.”  And I said, “No, I should ask, what if they don’t want me there again.”  The next day I was standing at the till paying for my lunch when the girl yelled across the caf, “You can sit with us again if you like!”  And I ended up becoming kind of ok friends with this girl Erica who also sat at the table, and suddenly I had someone to talk to in the hallway between classes.

So, going to church by myself might not end up being the worst thing ever.  Maybe I’ll find a church and make friends.  Maybe it’ll all turn out ok eventually.  In the meantime, it would be totally awesome if you could pray for me, and pray for this fear, for me to realize that it’s not as significant as I think it is, that it is able to be overcome.

And, if you have a home church, look around and see if there is someone who looks like they don’t belong or you haven’t seen them before.  And step out of your friend circle and say hi, ask them about themselves.  And then look for their face the next week, and remember their name, and make it a point to say hi, to let them know that you notice them and they’re welcome there.  We are supposed to be a family, so why do we ignore our brothers and sisters just because they aren’t in our clique.

Reach for the stars and you might grab a giant ball of fire.

Sometimes I feel like I live in fear of a lot of stuff.  I credit that partially to being american, and the fact that in America people are crazy and generally out to get you.  My first year at school I was on the highway and someone kept passing me and then slowing down.  The people in the car told me to pass them and I said I wouldn’t because the guy would pull out a gun and shoot us.  And my friend said, “This is Canada, no one is going to shoot you.”

But there is evil everywhere, even in Canada, believe it or not.  Evil is all around us, all the time, because it resides in a majority of our hearts.  When we have Jesus in our lives it is easier to defeat that evil but Satan is always working at getting something else in our minds.  I mean, I go from one idol to another.  I’m all like, “facebook takes up a lot of time and distracts me from God, I should delete it.” and then I just go and join the twitter world.

I have a friend who gets visions quite often and tells me about them.  I get pictures too sometimes, but mine are mostly nice pictures which I think God does for me because I would be absolutely petrified all the time if I got pictures of demons or war.  Instead I get pictures of metaphorical war, like chess, no bloodshed just chipped plastic and wounded egos.

But when my friend tells me about his visions I can usually picture them.  He told me one the other day that had a lot of demons in it, and I guess I know that demons are all over the place but I forget sometimes.  But when I’m reminded I get really scared, cause, dude, those things are scary looking.

But I know angels are everywhere too and that makes me feel a little bit better.  And God gives us armor for all that kind of stuff.

He gives us the belt of truth buckled around our waist, the breastplate of righteousness, feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (The word of God) – Eph 6:14-17

But probably the most important armor is prayer.  Paul says, “And pray in the Spirit on all occasions, with all kinds of prayers and requests.  With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.” – Eph 6:18

So God gives us armor and prepares us for the evil we will face in the world, but still sometimes I think about all the evil that exists and I get really discouraged.  I mean, it’s like surfing and when you’re trying to get out into the waves and you are fighting wave after wave trying to get deep enough to catch something significant when you realize you are a mile down the beach and only 20 feet from shore.  It gets overwhelming, it gets discouraging.

But then I think about the stars.  I mean we’ve got galaxies and lightyears of blackness and yet God filled the whole thing with a quadrogajillion balls of fire.  Which when we look at them seem tiny, but they’re actually massive.  And if God made sure to fill the colossally empty universe with giant balls of fire to light up the sky (spoiler alert: I don’t believe in aliens), then how much more has he set ablaze giant fire balls here on earth, by putting his Spirit in our hearts and lighting up the world?