She is Most Safe When Saying “Yes” to God’s Call
I last left you when we’d just gotten home from Africa + London - here’s the No Filter story on what the last ten days have held.
Our family recovered and reunited after Africa + London, and then we spent a few days preparing a) to leave our house for a month and b) to make our way to Hope Heals Camp with our friends Jay + Katherine.
We’re moving out of our house for a month to have some major renovations done, which feels like a huge blessing but is obviously a tiny bit stressful. The most tension for me is that I LOVE ROUTINE. I LOVE STRUCTURE AND SAMENESS… and I’ve known for some time now that this month would hold very little of those things.
On July 9th, we started making our way to Alabama for camp. By July 10th, we were settled at Hope Heals. By July 11th, we were welcoming campers. Nick and I served as volunteer pastors this year, but my three big kids all had intense serving roles, and I couldn’t get over how proud I was of them.
I could write 55,000 words about camp this year - but to keep this brief - I’ll tell you, the most exciting moment of our week for me was when it was time to leave.
Not only are we not in our home for this month, but we’re also scattered a good bit as a family. From camp, I was leaving with my two youngest kids to drive to Charlotte for SheSpeaks. My daughter, Glory, had pitched us a plan for her to stay an extra week at Hope Heals, and we said yes. And my oldest son, Elias, and Nick were headed to take Elias to a business innovation camp at Yale (Do I wish I could go, yes!).
We stood in a little huddle, all getting ready to be sent where we were supposed to go, and it felt like entering a new season: letting my kids run after their callings + their dreams.
Later I’ll blog about Proverbs 31 + the SheSpeaks conference and how much it meant to me to be able to speak there, but here’s my No Filter question for today:
What if there is wild abundance for ourselves and others in leaving behind what feels safe? What if there isn’t just power in routine and rhythm but in pounding out new pathways while we carry a mixture of faith and fear? What if sending others to be who God made them be is risky, and yet full of rewards?
I send you this blessing: May you sense God’s nearness even when you’re far from comfort. May you hear His voice + follow it, even when the days are loud + long. May you worship with the wild abandon of a woman who knows she’s most safe when she obeys the call on her life.
In Jesus’ name, amen.