Who Am I?

For the past few months, I’ve had this thought bouncing around in my head: Who am I?

Today some women came over to take showers. At one point I looked around my living room, and a wave of hopelessness hit me. They seemed to be having nonsensical conversations with no one in particular. PTSD, paranoid schizophrenia, undiagnosed mental disorders. These women were saying words in English, but couldn’t connect them together to form cohesive sentences. Where is their way out of homelessness?

One of the women, who had bruises and scabs all over her body and who was clearly drunk when we picked her up, told me she was 8 months pregnant. And that she had been drinking every day. And that she already has two kids who were taken when they were born and put into the foster care system. Who am I that God would give me these burdens to help carry? And who am I that He would pick my house to send His heavenly royalty to (Matthew 20:16)?

Last night I walked in to the apartment and one of my roommates, who a few months ago didn’t even know who Jesus was, was encouraging another roommate, who a few months ago was homeless, in her walk with God. I’ve gotten to watch them GET IT. They have seen the cross, and they have reckoned themselves dead with Christ. It’s humbling and inspiring and beautiful to see that change happen in a person. Who am I that I get to witness so often that change taking place in the women who come through my home?

On Friday at Adorn the Spirit fell and we worshiped for what felt like hours, on our feet and on our faces. God clearly spoke and said it was time to take the next step of faith, to move to a bigger place. One that can fit more people, and one that I can’t afford. The next day I notified my landlord. Who am I that God cares so much about constantly building my faith, stretching me until I’m uncomfortable and squirming and relying only on Him?

After sleeping on the street for a short time, I came home and lay on my bed. I can’t even remember the last time I was grateful to have a bed. But that night, I was in tears over it. Who am I that God has seen fit to bless me with a bed? And BLANKETS?

Who am I that God would entrust me with so much?

Who am I that God thinks I can handle this?

Who am I that God would bless me with this crazy adventure of a life?

Who am I that the God of the universe would so relentlessly pursue me every day of my life?

And then, although it was somewhat of a rhetorical question, He gave me the answer.

Exodus 3:11-12- But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?”
So He said, “I will certainly be with you.”

Moses asked God the same thing: Who am I that you would choose me for this? And God, instead of saying ANYTHING about Moses, says simply, “I’ll be with you.”

It’s not about who I am, it’s about who He is. And that is more than enough.

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."