One of my favorite things about being in dark, rainy Mozambique last July was days where my ministry was to cook.
I mean that makes sense right? I love to cook. But cooking in Mozambique was no joke. To cook in Mozi meant spending 2 hours at the market haggling, bartering, trying not to smell all the meat, then coming back and chopping vegetables for more hours then I would like to admit. Then cooking for 19 people on a coal fire.
To cook in Mozambique made me feel super accomplished.
But that’s not why I loved it.
It was the trekking to the market normally in mud, sometimes in rain and buying from the same women I bought from every 3 or 4 days. It was just a moment to smile with them, talk in broken Portuguese/Spanish and try to find out how their day was going.
It was always a highlight to me. Something that always brought me joy.
And as I look back on my life in missions and of course just life in general it’s the talking to and encouraging of women that has been a streamline in my life. From women’s bible studies in Mexico when I was in high school, to talking to moms daily tn the preschool and church where I worked, to walking alongside my friends each day.
(four of the women I did life with this year and the ways God rocked and changed them)
There’s something in me that’s always had a heart, even as a high school student for story, for hearing dreams, for seeing what people wanted to do with their lives. When I look at my circle of friends I’m amazed by the strong women that with whom God has surrounded me. My best friend Jess is a nurse and a mom of three. My forever roommate Leah works daily with autistic kids to better their lives. Kaytie and Lisa sit and hear stories of people who are hurting and help them through life as therapists. The list could go on.
I’ve always wondered what my place was within those strong women. What I was meant to do. How I fit. I worked as a preschool teacher for five years so I thought maybe what I was meant to do was enrich the lives of kiddos in that way. But then I realized something:
I wanted more.
This past year I spent time in 11 different countries doing life and doing ministry. But some of my sweetest times were those moments sitting across tables from women on my squad and hearing their story, hearing their life, hearing what God would have for them. I remember sitting across the table from my friend Chelsey at a coffee shop in Brasov, Romania as she told me her dreams and her call to move.
(Jo, Abby Tiff and I. 3 women who move and call me to move)
I want to be apart of that. I want to forever be apart of others call to move.
While in South Africa last year, discussing dreams and heart story my squad coach Betsy asked me a question. Did I want to be in the classroom or build the school and run it.
(Fuji, Kacie and Jesse. 3 more women of movement that I team lead with in Swaziland)
There are so many answers to that question. One being YES I love being in the classroom. I love literally being apart of the story that God is writing.
But I want to help YOU be in there. On the ground floor. Realizing what you want to do, where your story is and how you want to move.
We all have things in our stories that need to be heard. We all have hurts and pains and joys and happiness. All of these things combined are what makes us who we are. What leads us to move.
Maybe you are a full time mom who wants to group together other moms and have bible study or do yoga together.
Maybe you are single working female who just needs a community and want to find a way to make it intentional.
Maybe you just need someone to talk too.
That’s what Hope is a Verb is about. Empowering women. Realizing truth in story. A call to movement.
(Emily. A women I sat across many tables from all year)
And that is why I am going to Spain.
To be equipped. To help people to movement.
To help myself to movement.
I may have sat across tables from so many different types of women, with different stories, with different hurts and different dreams. (All of the women pictures have changed my life. And the all have their own call to move)
And I’m finally realizing mine.
(Cassie and I were together every day last year. She’s going to change Uganda and the world)
But I also know that I have parts of my story, parts of my heart I need to fully realize more. I need to place myself in an environment where that is possible.
And that is where G42 comes in.
A place to heal, to learn, to grow, to be surround by a community of people who are in their stories, with passions and hearts to move in the ways God is calling them.
I’d love for you to join me in this journey.
Here are a few ways:
- Subscribe to my blog and follow my heart. I try to post about once a week (hopefully more while I am in Spain). It’s a place where I lay down what I am learning, what I am going through. ( you can find my blog here: http://awindlikethis.wordpress.com )
- Join me in prayer. If I’ve learned ANYTHING from time on the mission field and just life in general it’s that we need to support one another in prayer. We need to rally behind one another and lift each other up.
- Last year in the midst of rainy Africa as I trailed around our host for the month, walking miles each day to visit widows, God spoke pretty clearly to me again about the fact that I truly needed to trust Him. That I wouldn’t be done raising support. I kind of hated that. But I tried to get out of it. But he didn’t relent. So I bow my head ask if you would consider joining me in the ground level of Hope is A Verb by contributing to my time in Spain. I have to raise 6300 for 6 months at G42 (covers all the things except a plane ticket which is already covered for me). If you have 10 dollars or 100 dollars every bit counts. Click here to donate to my support account.
- Ask me any question you want! Contact me below.
Thank you for reading and stopping into to my little space on the Internet. Thank you for blessing me and coming alongside in all of the things God has done, is doing and will continue to do in my life. Thank you for helping me apart of God’s call on my life to live nothing normal and everything Christ.