Imagine

I want you to take the time to imagine something. Go make a cup of hot tea, get alone somewhere, and curl up with your laptop. This is important.

Maybe you just turned 18 and anything is better than staying with your abusive parents. Maybe you owe three months in back rent because you haven’t been able to find a job and your landlord tells you you have to leave. The circumstances vary.

You have nowhere to go, no money to fall back on, no one in the world to help you. You might walk around during the day, hanging out around town. You look around and see that these people walking past you are living in a different world than you. You have nothing in common with them. A deep loneliness sets itself in your heart. Slowly it turns to despair, poisoning your mind and consuming it like a disease.

Soon you realize that when you have no home, the sun determines your waking hours. Once it goes down, there’s nothing to do but try to silence your thoughts long enough to fall asleep.

But your mind gets away from you. What if you are woken up by a cop kicking you to your feet? How are you going to eat? What if no one will let you use the restroom in their establishment because they can tell you’re homeless, and then you feel like an animal? What if the homeless around you get into a fight, or decide to start one with you?

And this is when it starts to hurt. The cold sets itself so deep in your bones that you can’t even remember what it feels like to be warm. Your body aches in the places the concrete presses against, and when you move your head there’s a sharp pain in your neck. There’s no easy way for you to use the bathroom, and soon the pressure in your bladder turns to pain. Your throat is dry and your lips cracked, but you can’t drink because that will make it worse. You will yourself to sleep, but are woken every 10 minutes by honking cars, bodily pain, or the deep, growling voices of others without homes taking refuge in the same place you are. You pass hours this way, praying that you’ll fall asleep and stay asleep because then you won’t feel the pain. You’re shaking so badly it leaves you breathless. It feels like your world has fallen out from under you. That’s when you realize something is missing, something you never thought about until it was gone: hope. Its absence leaves you feeling destroyed, dark, heavy. Words that don’t even make sense until they’re looming over you.

Then the thought: If there’s a God, why would He let this happen to you? If there’s a God, why doesn’t He love you? You suddenly understand why so many on the streets turn to drugs and alcohol. Where it was so easy to judge before, to write those people off as sealing their own fate, you realize you’re no different than them. You begin to think that you too would do anything to take the edge off the physical, emotion, and mental pain.

And then, you have the thought that scares you the most: It would be easier if you weren’t alive.

This is ONE NIGHT of being homeless. Two weeks ago, I got the call from the Lord to go and experience it for myself. I’ll write something about my experience another day, but the past 8 hours have left me forever changed. I asked God to give me a place of intercession through the experience, and at times I felt like he transported me to someone else’s mind. I wanted to take you there as well, as best I could.

He Delights in the "Impossible"

Halloween is the biggest event here in Santa Barbara. Specifically, Halloween is the biggest event here in Isla Vista. In a place known for its parties, Halloween is by far the craziest.

Every year, 20,000 out-of-towners come to our town of 20,000 residents to take part in the 4-day non-stop party.

Cops are on horses, floodlights illuminate the streets like daylight, cell phones don't work due to the sheer mass of people all around you, and instead of walking down the street, you pretty much get carried.

(The apartment complex in this picture is where I used to live.)

This year there were 230 arrests, 230 citations, and 40 hospitalizations, including a 17-year-old who was stabbed multiple times.

So why am I writing about this? Because it's real and it's the world and ignoring it is not only useless, but wrong.

At Jesus Burgers, Halloween usually ends up being mostly about helping people who are hurt, lost, or crying. But this year... was different. Friday night, the girls I went with led someone to the Lord. Saturday night, I met someone who was so clearly being called out of the life they were living. We talked for two hours about idols, chasing temporary happiness from substances, and finding identities in the wrong places. I've never felt so strongly like I was brought to a place to talk to one specific person. These are just two of the countless people this weekend who heard truth, were prayed over, and left changed. It never stops being amazing. I never get used to it.

These are not one-night encounters, these are people who we meet, come alongside, surround with community, and genuinely love.

These are people who are out with their friends, walking the street on their way from one party to the next. What possesses them to come up to us and just start talking? What keeps them talking to us for hours, telling their friends they'll catch up with them later?

In the seemingly least likely of places, at the least likely of times, He shows up. And it's such a beautiful reminder that the earth is His. We are His. Our unsaved family and friends are His. Even Isla Vista, on Halloween, is His.

Some friends telling some new friends about the King on Halloween

When God Showed Me I Was a Pharisee

Santa Barbara is known for its affluence. But right alongside the wealthy, there are countless families living in poverty, and of course, many homeless. During college, on special occasions, we would gather our friends, pile in cars, and head downtown for dinner. On our way, we would pass countless homeless people asking for help. I always saved some of my dinner to give to them, and my friends would comment on how good a person I was. So there I was, for the first year of my life with Jesus, being proud of the way I gave to the needy.

Downtown Santa Barbara

Then, one day, God laid something on me that changed my life. He showed me that if Jesus were here, walking on this earth, He would not be with me (read: Pharisee) and my friends eating at an expensive restaurant. He would be just outside the restaurant, sitting with the homeless man on the curb. And if Jesus were there, I would be there too! I would run to be where He was. I wouldn't offer him my leftovers, I would invite him into my home and cook him a feast!

The thing is, that IS where He is. So then and there, I decided that’s where I would be too. A few days after this, I was walking to meet some friends at an ice cream shop downtown. I was about to cross the street, I could SEE them eating and laughing, but as I looked down I saw a group of homeless people next to me. I went through a short inner battle, then dropped and sat with the homeless. We talked and laughed until most of my friends were gone from across the street. But when I looked over at my friends, it wasn’t with envy or sadness. Instead, I was flooded with unspeakable, boundless joy, knowing I was where Jesus was, knowing He has called me out of comfort, and knowing that I am blessed to be able to sacrifice anything at all for Him who sacrificed everything for us.

This is why I don’t understand when people ask me why I have homeless people living with me. This is where Jesus is! He says “Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.” Who among us wouldn’t offer our house to the King of Kings? Why WOULDN’T we invite the homeless to live with us?

Full to Overflowing

Today, I am overflowing. In more ways than one.

There’s this person. I love this person more than humanly possible, a love straight from God’s own heart. I have prayed for this person, for years, like no one else in my life. And last night, it came to fruition. I’m not a crier- I can’t remember the last time I cried. But last night I lost it.

Why does God even want me to do ANYTHING for Him, let alone give me the constant, humbling blessing of seeing people give their lives to Him? It blows me away! And I’m not just talking about the “sinner’s prayer,” I’m talking about full on, life changing, flesh crucifying transformations. I am overwhelmingly blessed and overflowing with joy and adoration.

We are also full in a more tangible way. There are currently two beds in my bedroom, a couch in the living room, and a bed in the dining room. We’re running out of room. SO, due to a small raise and a big faith, we’re looking for a larger place!

Just wanted to share a quick update with you and ask for your prayers in this next step. Love.

The Prodigal

After Maddie left, we didn’t have to wait long for our next long-term roomie- God brought her within the week. Her name was Natasha, and she was coming from Nevada and needed a place to stay while she looked for a more permanent home.

Natasha had grown up “Christian,” but had a rough childhood. Both her parents were alcoholics and her mom killed herself when Natasha was 12. These are things I can’t even imagine. When she came to live with me, she was completely content with her faith. She literally had no idea that there was more to be had. Her plan was to come to college and live the typical college life. But over the weeks she started to grow curious about things, beginning with the basics and eventually grilling me with questions from “What is baptism?" to “Why does God talk to you and not me?”

Natasha

Of course, throughout her time here I was praying for something big to happen in her heart- something that has happened with every girl who has come through here and that I know God desires for them. Finally, she found a place to move- in I.V. If you’re not informed about I.V, go back and read my first post. I am so in love with that little town, but am also aware that it’s not for everyone. So, I began to pray the bold, specific prayers I first became acquainted with at Ellerslie. Namely, that she would not leave my house without one of those crazy, life-altering changes that God always seems to have up His sleeve. And that it would happen by Wednesday, the day she was moving out.

And then, she moved out. Nothing had happened. As soon as my sneaky little mind had time to conjure up the thought, “Why didn’t God do it?” He responded with, “Blessed are those who have not seen and still have believed.” Well, that solved it, He did do it. I just didn’t know what it was yet. This supernatural conversation took place throughout work on Thursday, and just as I was heading home, I got a call from her. In tears.

“Are you going to be home soon? I need to talk… can I move back in?”

I wasn’t surprised, but I was still overwhelmed with emotion. Because He is faithful every.single.time. Without fail. Regardless of me.

She came home and explained that in the past week, God had made it abundantly clear that He was putting a choice in front of her, she had come to a fork in her life. He had showed her it was her way or His. How many times have I prayed Jim Elliot’s prayer, “Father, make of me a crisis man. Make me a fork, so that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me.” She decided to go her own way… but after only one night had fallen at the foot of the cross and ran back into His arms.

A few days later, she explained when the stirring in her heart had begun. She had no interest in growing in her faith, and no idea that’s what was in store for her. The first day she moved in with me, we had a going away party at our house for one of my friends from Adorn. (In case I haven’t explained, Adorn is my church’s Friday night service for twenty-somethings, and is the most amazing thing I have ever been a part of on earth.) Natasha told me about how she was excited for the party because she was going to get to meet a ton of people her age. What she wasn’t expecting was that all anyone at the party wanted to talk about was God.

“You guys talked about God like most people gossip,” she said. “At first I thought it was just you, but I kept going up to different groups of people, and it was always the same. It was like He was the center of your lives, and everything you did had to do with Him. You just can’t be around people like that and not want what they have.”

Adorn

Whoa. Isn’t it crazy the things He uses to drastically change lives? Here we are, 100 twenty-somethings thinking we’re gathered just to eat food and hang out, not realizing He is using our normal, everyday conversation to bring His prodigal daughter home.

It's Going to be Wild

I’m in the middle of reading Chasing the Dragon. I know, I can’t believe I’ve waited this long either. That book has been an amazing encouragement to me, knowing I’m being sent into similar things. The thing is, I always think of Jackie Pullinger as a different kind of missionary than I am (and pretty much everyone in America). Sure, we’re all telling people about Christ, working through drugs, alcohol, homelessness, and poverty, but I’m not dealing with the sex trade or corruption or any of those other situations I don’t know how to deal with. And I was planning on NOT having to deal with that until I was sent. But the thing is, I AM sent, and this weekend, I felt it for the first time.

On Saturday, I got a call from a friend telling me about Jaimie. She was 17, had only moved to America from the Philippines a few months prior, and was living in a tiny apartment in San Diego with her mom, sister, and brother. On Friday, she called a friend back in the Philippines in hysterics, confiding that her uncle (who lives next door) had tried to rape her. It wasn’t the first time. This friend called another friend who was in America, who then called me, because she knew I was in California. I said I could be there by Monday.

I arrived at this precious girl’s apartment and her sister, brother, and cousins were all waiting for me with a pizza dinner. She said she had told her aunt I was from the Philippines, because she won’t let them be friends with anyone else (although I’m not sure how that worked, since I ‘m clearly quite white). Everyone was so excited to see me. They were amazed I had graduated college. I felt like I had entered another world. After we ate, Jaimie asked everyone to go in their bedroom (yes, that’s singular) and let us talk alone.

She poured her heart out to me in the best English she had, and somehow I understood everything. Her mom was back in the Philippines for ovarian surgery because it’s free there (I will never understand the “Christian” view of universal healthcare, but I’m not even going to go there), so she was staying with her aunt and uncle. She had no father, so her uncle had taken that place in her life. She looked up to him, respected him, and loved him. Which made what had happened to her all the more painful and confusing.

She shared about how she was so excited to come to America because that stuff isn’t supposed to happen here. Back home, her older sister had been close friends with a man Jaimie called only “authority.” I’m pretty sure that means he was a police officer. Jaimie often went along for the ride when her sister would meet up with this man and his friends, and would see them exchanging money, but never thought too much about it. Then one day, her sister told her to get out of the car and go with her. She saw the money exchange hands, and felt like something was off, but still didn’t understand. The “authority” then took her hand and pulled her into a room with him. She was crying, but he didn’t care. She said that was the day she lost her innocence.

She asked me why God was doing this to her, why He was mad at her, why would things like this happen if He existed. She had begun to lose her faith. I was in so far above my head I just kept telling the Lord He had to speak for me. And that’s what He did. We sat there talking, crying, and eventually laughing. Of course I invited her to come live with me, but she’s only 17 and can’t leave home because she contributes to the family income. We were getting deep into the conversation and I was about to pray for her, when her aunt burst through the door and yelled, “Fire!”

We ran outside and were rained on first by ash from the fire and then water dropped from a helicopter. We had to put our shirts over our mouths to breathe. We stood watching for a while, but then everyone had to go inside. Jaimie said goodbye and that she’d call me. I started walking back to my car, confused, trying to take everything in, but found I was blocked in by fire trucks, police cars, and firemen. So, I went toward the fire. I sat there watching it, breathing in the smell of the smoke, praying. I watched as the fire cut through brush like nothing, and was reminded of just how fragile and fleeting this life is. And I prayed.

And I’m still praying. I still don’t know what to make of everything. That’s why I’m posting this story- so you will pray for Jaimie. I don’t even know how to be more specific than that. We’ve been talking over the phone, and I’m heading down there again this weekend.

When God first asks us to choose this life, He doesn’t say it’s going to be easy, or always make sense, or not break our hearts. But He does say it’s going to be wild, and great, and full of Him. And that’s exactly what it is.

"We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you." 2 Chronicles 20:12

"Come away with Me, come away with Me.
It's going to be wild, it's going to be great,
it's going to be full of Me."

Maddie

She came into our lives suddenly and unexpectedly, and left the same way. Tonight is our first night without Maddie, and we both feel there is a piece to our little puzzle missing.

A few weeks ago, I got an email from my college pastor asking me to get in touch with a girl who was moving here from Sweden. She just wanted to ask some questions about Santa Barbara… but I knew immediately God had more in store for us. Long story short, I drove to LAX at 11 pm, picked her up, and moved her in to my house.

Being a Christian in Sweden is not socially acceptable. Because of this, Maddie has always surrounded herself with non-Christians, and had ended up turning away from God. It was clear to me, and the other girl staying here, Kimberly, that the Lord wanted more for Maddie- He brought her here, on this crazy adventure, to romance her, to remind her of her first love, and to draw her deeper into His arms.

But often, big steps like this come with opposition. As soon as she arrived, she fell into a deep depression. We would wake up to her having panic attacks in the early morning- crying and having trouble breathing- and do the only thing we knew to do- pray. She had planned to stay here for four years but she couldn’t bear to be away from her boyfriend (who is not abeliever), and booked a flight home for Monday. This is when I enlisted the help of my closest prayer warriors. Something big needed to happen before Monday.

Suddenly, her depression was gone. She turned into this crazy, wacky, joyful girl I hadn’t seen before. But she was still planning on leaving. As we headed out to a church party on Saturday, I felt the familiar pressing of needing to speak the truth when I didn’t want to. So, for what felt like the entire hour we were in the car, I talked. About how the Lord had taken me on an eerily similar journey when I was still shaky in my faith, about Him knitting us all together in my home for a purpose, and about how right now she was about to turn her back on God and put her own flesh and her boyfriend’s will above the will of the Lord in her life. She started sobbing. She said that was all true, but she just wasn’t strong enough to follow God on this one. She said God would give her another chance one day.

And just as quickly as I felt the welling up of judgment in my heart, I felt the sting of conviction. It was so easy to see the backward logic at work- Maddie was turning away from God, expecting Him to be there later. I’m not saying that’s not true, just that it’s absolutely the wrong way to think about things. I felt heartbroken, and can only imagine how HE felt. How many times have I said, “Ok, I’ll do that later, God.” Or, “God, I can’t do that. I’m too shy. I’m not sure if this is really what You’re saying. I’ll do it next time You ask me.”

After a long silence, she started crying again.

“We have to ask God to tell my boyfriend to let me stay. I don’t want to leave.” Complete 180 degree turn from where she was just one day ago. I promised we would enlist the help of the mightiest prayer warriors I know- the women of Adorn J

When we got to the party, I laid it out for the girls, and as is their nature, they went to battle for this girl they hardly knew. We laid hands on her, praised the Lord for her, asked Him to pour out His good and perfect gifts on her. We left right after that, and as soon as we got in the car Maddie said that she felt an overwhelming peace about the situation.

At this time, you guys were still praying for her, knowing something had to happen by Monday. We both woke up the next morning and went to church, and I don’t know how to explain what happened except that Britt (our pastor) was given a message that was for Maddie’s heart. We left that morning, and she said something had changed within her. That she had never felt a fire like the one that was burning in her now, that she had never felt a passion like the one that had just rooted itself in her heart. She went home, got on Skype, and preached the gospel to her boyfriend, her friends from Sweden, her friends from England, her parents, anyone she had contact with on Skype.

The next day was Monday, and she got on the plane and went home. But she went home completely different. I honestly have no idea if it was God’s plan for her to just be here for a week and have her life changed in that short amount of time or if He did want her to stay. All I know is, we (and you) prayed for something radical to happen, and it did.

Sitting here on the couch, Kimberly says, “It feels like something is missing.” Yes, it does. So we wait for the next person.

NOTE- I wrote this a few weeks ago, just forgot to post it. The wait is over, a new girl is here! J We are so thankful for all your prayers.

It's Not Easy, But it is Glorious

I’m assuming that if you’re reading this, you know about my call to open my home to the homeless. After trying to take things into my own hands, then giving it up completely to the Lord, He has brought two girls into my home- as much as my little apartment can hold.

Oh, what a crazy adventure it has been. Sometimes I think of the life I used to have planned for myself, and can’t believe the difference.

This… is hard. Sometimes my house smells like people who haven’t showered in months, and I pray that they won’t see me gag. Sometimes we get 3 hours of sleep because when one person wakes up crying, we cry together. These girls have been through more in their lives than I can even comprehend. Sometimes I don’t know how I’m going to pay my rent, because feeding and clothing and supporting three people is a lot more expensive than just one. Sometimes the house is so full that I lay down underneath my dining room table to pray in the mornings. Sometimes I wish I could have my old friends back, instead of spending every spare moment taking care of others. Sometimes I long for alone time. Sometimes I think I can’t handle this constant front-line battling. And always I am so aware of my inability to do anything without the supernatural strength of my Beloved. Who am I that God would entrust me with anything like this?

But then, there are the other times. The times when the Lord showers out so much love and blessings on me that I think I’m going to collapse. When I put on worship music to clean the house to and one of the girls starts crying because she is in the presence of the Lord. When one of them says “Oh, I’ve never seen an iPod,” and I look at all my posessions differently afterward. When they start talking to God mid-sentence. When their faces light up when I introduce them to a friend. When I come home from work and see them praying over each other. When we go to the park and feed the homeless, able to give because we have been given so much. When friends give me checks out of the blue, without even knowing why. When I curl their hair, or buy them a dress, or take them to dinner, and see a gratefulness on their faces I don’t even know if I’ve ever felt.

Sitting on the couch, we throw our heads back and laugh. We praise the Lord, we pray, we tell jokes, we try to speak in accents, we encourage, we are given words, and we laugh some more. I think about the fact that we have nothing in common, have trouble relating to each other on so many levels, and often don't even understand what each other are talking about, and thank the Lord He has chosen to brings us together. And the laughter outweighs the tears. This life- It is hard, but it is glorious. And there's no place I'd rather be.

For the first time, I understand first-hand what Eric Ludy means when he says that the devil offered him a deal. The things happening here are not without opposition. Will you come alongside us in battle? The war is raging for one of the girls’ souls. I can’t really explain, but she has until Monday to decide which side she will stand on. Please, pray with us.

Your Spirit Soars Me

I have come to the realization that I am awful at telling stories. So many amazing, God-glorifying things are happening here, but it’s so hard to elaborate on everything.

But there’s one thing that happened recently that is so close to my heart, I have to share it.

When I got back from Ellerslie last year, I moved in with six non-Christian girls, and squeezed into one tiny room with two of them. Not long after, the Lord began to take them both into a time of deep hardships, including addictions, families disowning them, serious depression, and a multitude of idols and false gods. By the grace of God, one of them saw the Lord through her trials, and accepted Christ. Her story is stirring, but this story is not about her. The other went about it another way- through medication, psychiatrists, and self-help books. Then came the dark night of the soul. She realized there was nothing she could do to change herself, and cried out for help. She didn’t know who she was calling to, just that she needed… something. She began coming to church with us, then asking us for prayer, then buying and reading the Bible. She asked question after question about Christianity, struggling with specific aspects of it. We knew what she needed- to experience the presence and love of God.

There was a major problem, though- she thought it was weird when we worshiped. When she came to church, she remained sitting while we sang, and was freaked out by everyone raising their hands or going to the carpets at the front to kneel. We showered her with love, prayers, and the knowledge of what it means to accept Christ, knowing the work had begun in her heart.

Then, one Sunday during closing worship, I felt the tap on my shoulder. She said, “I’m going up to get prayer… will you come with me?” I grabbed my other roommate, saw the same expression of expectancy on her face, and went to be prayed over. The woman asked her if she had accepted Christ and she answered that she was unsure whether she had or not. We got prayer for the Lord to move in her heart, that He would draw us closer together as sisters, and that He would use us to bring each other closer to Him.

As we began to head back to our seats, I caught a glimpse of an empty spot on the carpets, and asked if she wanted to stay and worship there. There was a moment of indecision and fear, and then she fell to her face on the ground. My other roommate and I kneeled behind her, crying, with one hand on her back and one hand to heaven, praying and singing,

“For I know you are faithful, My God.
For I know you are faithful, My God.
My hearts aches for you my God,
My soul waits for you my God,
I’ve come far to find you here
In this place will I draw near.”

I opened my eyes, and saw her with her hands raised to heaven, singing to the Lord with her entire voice. That’s when we all lost it, we could barely sing through our crying,

“And Your Spirit soars me
To the highest heights,
From where I’ll not look back, no
I’ll keep trusting you.”

The song ended, everyone began to leave, and we sat on the floor letting everything settle in our hearts. We were all thinking the same thing, so I said it out loud: “Do you want to pray to accept Christ?” She said she could not deny the change that was taking place in her anymore, knowing it was nothing she mustered up herself. My other roommate wanted MORE of Him. So we prayed. We sat there on those carpets praying, until most people were gone, asking for Jesus to reign in our hearts, for His Spirit to live and dwell inside us, for Him to empower us with His Holy Spirit so we could walk in the fullness of what He has for us, and for Him to draw us ever closer to Him.

We left church that day, and neither of those two were ever the same. If the Son has set you free, you are free indeed!

Luke 7:37-50

And behold, a woman in the city who was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at the table in the Pharisee’s house, brought an alabaster flask of fragrant oil, ³⁸ and stood at His feet behind Him weeping; and she began to wash His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head; and she kissed His feet and anointed them with the fragrant oil. ³⁹ Now when the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he spoke to himself, saying, “This Man, if He were a prophet, would know who and what manner of woman this is who is touching Him, for she is a sinner.”
⁴⁰ And Jesus answered and said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.”
So he said, “Teacher, say it.”
⁴¹ “There was a certain creditor who had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. ⁴² And when they had nothing with which to repay, he freely forgave them both. Tell Me, therefore, which of them will love him more?”
⁴³ Simon answered and said, “I suppose the one whom he forgave more.”
And He said to him, “You have rightly judged.” ⁴⁴ Then He turned to the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has washed My feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head. ⁴⁵ You gave Me no kiss, but this woman has not ceased to kiss My feet since the time I came in. ⁴⁶ You did not anoint My head with oil, but this woman has anointed My feet with fragrant oil. ⁴⁷ Therefore I say to you, her sins,which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.”
⁴⁸ Then He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
⁴⁹ And those who sat at the table with Him began to say to themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”
⁵⁰ Then He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

Persecution From Within the Body

Ok, I am hesitant to use the word “persecution.” I am reviled in a much more aggressive, offensive way by nonbelievers here. And countless others around the world are persecuted in ways I can’t even imagine. But… there is a special sting all its own when those in the family of Christ look down on you for what you do.

Since coming home, I have felt that sting from people I hold in high regard. And it hurt. In fact, at first, I thought, “Maybe I AM doing something wrong here.”

I think most of you know about where I live. I described it in my last post (8 months ago, haha). It is a very dark place. And I live here. And not only do I live here, but I live smack dab in the middle of the craziness. And when people kept asking WHY I lived here, hinting that I should be living with Christians, in a set-apart environment, free of the dirt and grime of the world, I started to wonder if they were right. And in that case, maybe all the Christians around me were right. Maybe I shouldn’t be living in this place.

But then, I turned to the only One I want to lead me, to guide my path, to make plans for my life. And as usual, He brought me to my knees. He showed me Jackie Pullinger, who lived in the walled city alongside the dying, the prostitutes, the drug addicts. He showed me David Wilkerson, who left everything behind to live among the violent street gangs of New York. He reminded me of JESUS, who came to seek and save the lost. And He gently but firmly assured me that my light was made to shine in the darkness, my life was meant to be spent among the lost, and my heart will always be for the broken. He reminded me that by His grace, He enables me to live set-apart from the world... even in the midst of living in it.

I will freely admit that I don’t always love this life. It’s not glamorous. When I got home after summer I moved in with 6 non-Christian girls. One night I prayed for a way to show them the love of Christ. I woke up the next morning and… well, I don’t want to disrespect my roommate so I’m going to be vague, but God provided a way from me to show her love. I’ll never forget what she said: “I have never had anyone in my life love me so much that they would do that for me.” Two months ago, she accepted Christ, and I can't even come close to explaining the change that has taken place in her heart. From completely enslaved to alcohol, insecurities, and depression, to bold, joyful, and secure in the love of Jesus.

I’m writing this because I don’t think I’m the only one called here. I am praying for more workers. I’ve said it before- the harvest is so, so plenty and the laborers so, so few. I believe that more people are called out, away from their comfort zones, away from their bubbles, than are answering! And I want to see people go. I’m not talking about here, I’m talking about the place God has in store for you.

I would never trade the things I’ve seen here for a safe, quiet life. I’ve seen heroine addicts healed in a split second. I’ve seen people drop their drink, ditch their friends, and RUN to receive prayer. I’ve heard the homeless overflowing with gratitude for the blessings in their lives. I’ve seen street kids light up at being shown the slightest bit of love. And all this is nothing compared to what He has in store for this place! But ultimately, none of that is what it’s about. It’s about Him, His glory, and His renown. And what do man’s opinions of me matter in light of that?

READ THIS BEFORE YOU WATCH: I really want to give everyone an idea of what it’s like here, and what the ministry is like. This video shows a little glimpse of it. I’m not affiliated with this church in any way, but we do come alongside them to do the Jesus Burgers ministry, which consists of handing out free burgers and sharing the gospel with party-goers. There are a few scenes in this video that might be a bit uncomfortable. It’s up to you whether to watch it.

Isla Vista Church Presents: Upper Room