Be Bold.

Sometimes I know exactly what I want to say and have absolutely no idea how to say it.  At the exact same time.

My journey to and from Mexico came to a close Saturday morning.  Rather abruptly.  Transitioning away from the"large-group mentality" I'd been forced into for the last week into a solitary existence was more difficult than I thought it would be.  After such a transformational week, all I wanted was more.  More time with unbelievable students and leaders, more growth, more freedom, more redemption, more service, more manual labor.  More of all the ingredients that filled me to overflowing and then poured out everywhere.  I'd even take more travel time in our tiny bus for the adventure to continue.

God's voice frequently asks me to do things I would otherwise probably not do.  In fact, that's usually how I know it's God.  When I'm asked to leap somewhere that makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable, God is usually trying to stretch me.  I'm getting better and better at just being obedient.  This week I was challenged to face some fears.  I felt a clear call to "be bold and not be afraid" on this trip.  The practicality of this challenge almost blew me away.  If I was asked to do something, regardless of personal preference, I would do it.

I got several opportunities. 

The first one included my first venture onto a roof.  In fact, I ended up spending more time working on the roof than working on the ground.  I laid shingles for days.  On my team's house, and then on the others team's houses.  Had I let my fear of falling off the roof keep me from climbing up anyway, I would never have had the opportunity to learn how to shingle the roof, and in turn, would never have had the opportunity to lead a team that helped shingle the other two houses once ours was done.  It was a huge blessing to be able to help the others.  It was a huge personal achievement to face this fear.  It was exhilarating to stand on the roof and see out over everything.

That's me in the teal shirt, walking around like a roofing pro.

My other broken fear is a little more personal.  At some point in Jr High, an out-loud prayer of mine was mocked by a peer.  From that point until now, fear and anxiety cloud all instances that require me to pray aloud.  Sometimes it was debilitating, sometimes I just felt ashamed that I couldn't do it.  I've been challenged to do a lot more of this recently, but the level of fear never changed.  So when I was spontaneously asked to pray to close a leader meeting one night, I took a big gulp and just jumped in (and actually surprised a fellow leader who knew of my fear and had never heard me pray aloud).  I was still nervous during it, but was proud of my accomplishment regardless.  A few days later, impromptu again, I was asked to bless breakfast for the large group.  Without missing a beat, I did it.  And for the first time in nearly 10 years, I prayed aloud without fear OR anxiety.  It was in that moment that I received freedom from the lie--that praying aloud has to be filled with anxiousness.  I still get anxious when I pray, but the difference now is that I can choose to reject that anxiety--the lie the Devil tries to get me to believe--because I know better.  I've tasted freedom.  I no longer have to live with the taste of sour grapes.

I'm a fearful person by nature, but what I didn't realize was the impact that my fear would have on me.  How they held me back.  How the simple act of stepping out and being bold freed me from unnecessary and somewhat silly fears.  How the week of being daring ushered in such transformational growth and healing in some pretty deep places.  And lastly, how blessed I would feel when my choice to obey coincided with God's plan and resulted in something even better than I could have imagined. 

God gave me a couple words only days before we left.  Guess what the first one was.  FREEDOM.

Blessed, blessed freedom--from the bondage of lies.