I am a woman who wants to make a difference for Christ in the world. I want my life and legacy to count for something with eternal significance. I want to stand before God one day knowing I fulfilled the purposes He had for me.
The bible tells us that those with a pure heart will see God. It doesn’t say we have to be perfect or perfectly ready; it just says that we have to get to a place where our hearts purely desire to see Him—and then we will.
What I stand for, my inclusiveness—it scares the shit out of people. And it’s the only way I understand the Gospel. It’s a radical faith that people aren’t used to seeing, let alone living.
But, the thing is, I can’t come to any other conclusion than the path laid out for us by Jesus. Anything other than a radically inclusive faith that honors the dignity of every person makes no sense to me. I can’t find any other road through my faith than the one that condemns sexism, racism, misogyny, patriarchy, homophobia, abuse, and white supremacy (my list could go on). Nothing else makes sense to me. This is who Jesus is and what he came to do. I can’t say it any plainer. He came to loose the chains of injustice and set the captives free. Full stop. And that’s where people will always find me.
I want my beloved churches and the body of Christ to not only make space for others but make ROOM for everyone and their full humanity.
My desire to love well is always going to be bigger than my desire to do well. God and I have had many conversations on that. And it’s scary. People who consider themselves religious gatekeepers—their response is usually always swift, vicious, predictable, fear-based, and cruel. It’s hard. But I know in my heart, in my spirit that it’s the right kind of hard. I think that kind of courage is what God has called me to. And it’s that kind of courage that makes this world safer for all people.
And I believe that’s how it works. We stand up for each other. Because we belong to each other and because no one is free until we all are.
I see a generation of people on the hook. We are so tough on one another, starting with ourselves. When Jesus said to “love your neighbor as yourself,” I don’t think He meant judgmentally; but that is exactly how we treat our own souls, so it bleeds out to others. Folks who thrive in God’s grace give grace easily, but the self-critical person becomes others-critical. We “love” people the way we “love” ourselves, and if we are not good enough, then no one else is.
We keep ourselves brutally on the hook. When we impose unrealistic expectations on ourselves, it’s natural to force them on everyone else. If we’re going to fail, at least we can expect others to fail; and misery loves company, right?
I believe we can do better. We all can. I think God wants us off the flipping hook people! I mean, come on—since Jesus pretty much already handled that for us. I hope everyone eventually gets to a place where you can breathe an enormous sigh of relief and I hope that you can laugh out loud because you just got free. Then, I hope you look with fresh, renewed eyes at all your people—the ones on your street and in your church and at your work and around the world—and you are released to love them as though it is your job.
Maybe we can lay down our fear and criticism, self-directed and otherwise. Maybe if we let ourselves off the hook, we can let others off, too, and discover that God was in control all along, just as He tried to tell us. He is good at being God. We don’t have to be saviors and critics for each other; we’re probably better as loved people beside one another.
We aren’t good gods, but we can be good humans.
Spoiler alert: I’m amazing. I am. God tells me this. Just ask any of my friends, when I see myself in a mirror-I get pretty excited. This grace thing is no joke. We get to live a free life. AND—so do other people because God gave Jesus, who fixed everything. Instead of being “right” at each other all the time, we can just live these beautiful, precious lives of ours in full freedom. That really is some damn good news.
I love people. It’s what I know. God has always made the most sense to me through His people, His image bearers. I crave dignity and healing and purpose and freedom for me and mine, you and yours, them and theirs. I want us to live well and love well. People can heal and hurt each other, and we do.
I’m hoping to help lead a tribe that does more healing and less hurting.
I consider that my job.
The reason why I live and breathe is simple: love. This is all that will last. Honestly, it is all that matters. Because as Paul basically said: We can have our junk together in a thousand areas, but if we don’t have love, we are just frickin broke. Get this right and everything else follows. Get it wrong, and life becomes bitter, fear-based, and lonely. And dear ones, it doesn’t have to be.
Love me. Let me love you. And go out and love absolutely EVERYONE else.
Do that, and this is going to be so fun.
