Yet You are good.

There is no telling how many times I have sat down to try and write a blog since I have been home. I sit, I write one sentence, I blank, I exit the page. Obviously my motivation for blogging has been waning, and my source of blog-wisdom seems to have run dry. But today has been a different day.
Today I have become very sure of something - a lie that I have been walking with for some time now. There is some "empowering" idea that if God puts you in a situation, it is because He knows that you can handle it.
Because you can handle it.
You can handle it.
YOU.

For some reason, our culture believes that there is some inner strength that WE supply to ourselves. If we are in a situation, it is because WE can get through it, all by our little lonesome. Dependence is weakness, no need for help, I can do this all by myself.

Today I am confident of the big fat falsehood of this statement. Today, on the brink of tears, I know that my legs are too weak to keep a-movin'. Today I just can't.

If you will for a moment, let that imagination in your noggin get a little action. Today, covered in white paint, I sat in my kitchen working on the never-ending project of painting our kitchen. I was reaching over to cover the trim behind our microwave, and the thought came to mind "If God has you here, it's because you can do this." I literally laughed out loud. What a joke. I just think to myself, "If God thinks I can do this, I seriously doubt God's judgement." The reason that God has me in Ozark, Arkansas on September 6th painting my parents kitchen alone is not because He knows that I am the person for this job. As if He knows that I am spiritually mature enough to sit here, momentarily pulled out from the community that I love, watching my friends move on with their lives (some in the one place that I would give just about anything to be in), trapped inside four walls with no money to my name to get me out. As if God looked upon the Earth for a girl who would have the ability in her to be strong enough to make it through.

Am I the only one who sees a problem here?

Today, sitting in my kitchen, covered in paint, I realized, no, that girl isn't me. I am not the one for this job. I don't have the motivation to get up everyday and put on joy like a garment. I don't have the strength to walk in my identity today. I don't really feel like serving, loving, sacrificing. It isn't my priority if left to my strength, desires, dreams.

Today, I remember that I am human. Today, I look in the mirror at the same familiar face, and remember that I am weak. That I am in no way capable of running with endurance the race that has been marked out for me, if I am running on my own energy supply. Today, I laugh at my self-sustaining mindset that if I feel depressed, lonely, tired, beat-down, it is because God knows that I am strong.

Let's set the record straight, hey? Let's be real enough about God to know that He sees me in all of my disability and knows the weak heart that beats in my chest. I know this. I know who He knows me to be before I put on the identity of His son. There is some idea in my head that I have formed to think that because I have taken on the identity of Jesus that I have taken on the strength to go it alone. Where in the Bible does it tell me that Jesus was independent? Where does He break off from the source of Heaven and become the lone ranger? Who do I think I am to believe that I could possibly go it alone? Because I can't. Today, I can't walk one more moment of this path alone.

That is where my confidence comes from knowing that it cannot possibly be true that God puts his trust in our strength. That is why David told us in Psalm 146 not to put our trust in people who cannot save. Because we are weak, poor. It's in our nature. God trusts in His strength. He has full confidence in Himself, and I truly believe THAT is why He has brought me home for this season. Not because I can handle it; it's exactly the opposite. He knows that I cannot handle it, that I cannot stand firm, that I cannot keep my own head above the waves. I have found myself here on my knees, because here, kneeling at the foot of the cross, more out of weakness than surrender, is exactly where He sustains me. Where my rope ends, His starts. Where my flesh and my heart fail, His feet are firm and sure. He is an anchor. He is secure.

Today, I know that I can because His spirit is strong in me. My feet are firm held by His grace. My armor is securely fastened on by His patience and love. David knew that it was by His God that he could leap over a wall, that He could defeat armies, that He could outrun His enemies. He didn't have to enjoy it, he didn't have to like being pursued by Saul in the wilderness, he didn't have to happily leave his best friend's presence without assurance of ever seeing him again. He wept, he cried out to God, he didn't understand. And yet God was good in the midst of the trial.

And yet God is good in the midst of my trial. No, God, I don't like it. I don't want to be here in my physical location doing the things that I am doing, but I am continually joyful to know that exactly what I asked for from you is coming to fruition. I know that I have asked to grow, and I know that right here is where the growing happens. I know without a doubt that your ability, love, strength, might, will get me through this season. I will live in today, not letting my heart be faint by the thought of tomorrow. I will remember who you are in this moment, and who that allows me to be.

I have not been called to be strong in myself. I have not been appointed by God to be something that He knows I cannot be. I have been brought low, and how sweet it is to be low.

It was from the lion's den that Daniel experienced the power and glory of God. It was from the prison that Joseph was brought into promotion. It was from the altar that Isaac saw the provision of his God. It was from the cross that the veil was torn. It was from the tomb that my salvation has come.

I will rejoice in the place of weakness that I am in, not because I am able to walk through it easily, but because it is here that the arms of the Lord are seen clearly.

"Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." - 2 Corinthians 12:9b

"There and back again."

The picture my dad made me come back down the escalator for at the airport.

23 weeks ago I was tearfully pulling together the clothing I wanted to use for the next 6 months, fundraising my brains out, working two jobs, hugging my best friends goodbye, and finally walking away from my parents at the airport, only to have my dad call me back down from the escalator because we had forgotten to take a picture together. I remember taking my second trip up the stairs to security, looking behind me one last time with tears definitely flowing down my face, and thinking "WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?!" The security guard gave me a worried look as I made my way to the front of the line and graciously ushered me through as she could obviously see the emotional state of distress I was swimming in. I made it through relatively easily, and as I sat down at my gate, I was probably instagramming my life and trying to keep the anxious thoughts away. How could an 18 year old girl who had never even used her passport make it to the ends of the Earth? How could this girl, who thought she knew God SO well, possibly spend 6 months trying to understand and share Him? How could THIS girl adventure into the unknown with a God who, in reality, was quite unknown to me?
This is all made possible by a God of ABUNDANTLY more. A God who is not limited by our human conditions, by our lack of money, by our fear of man, fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of the unknown. A God who meets us in our brokenness and trades in our pile of ashes and shattered attempts for royal robes and precious jewels. A God who is real, who speaks, who loves fiercely, who sees life in different colors than we do.
I want to tell you about how this God has radically ruined my life for the ordinary for the past 5 and a half months.

First week of school

Kaikoura, New Zealand

It all started September 21st, when I walked out of Christchurch International Airport with 2 staff I had never spoken to before, 2 people with their own stories, 2 people of MANY people who would become very dear friends. We arrived at the YWAM Oxford base, after driving on what at the time was the WRONG side of the road, and thinking back on it now, it almost makes me cringe in disgust when I think of the state of insecurity and shame I walked into the property with. I was pulled into a community of other broken Christians, broken children of the Lord who had faced pain, failure, joy, insecurity, shame. Broken people who had been hand picked by my Dad to do life with each other for the next 6 months. Broken people who are all being made new by our Father, who have become a family, who have shared secrets, repentance, tears, countless emotions. Six months ago I never would have thought I would love this family like I do. But 23 weeks of brokenness, redemption, repentance, acceptance, freedom, challenge, community, joy, fun, tears, hilarious moments of laughter will do this to you. If you want to leave your family behind, be a lone wolf, adventure the world on your own, YWAM is not for you, because God created us for community, and YWAM has taken on the challenge pulled together communities of people who are often poor, broken, and always imperfect. The thing is, there is a God, a Father, a Leader who has brought us together and covered us all in grace, and He has made us into a family that it will be very hard to leave. I guess that often happens when you allow God to wreck and ruin you for the ordinary ways of life.

My outreach team at the Love Feast

I went through almost 3 months of life changing transformation. I went on adventures that I will remember for the rest of my life. I listened to the wisdom of the Lord flow from the mouths of our speakers, I invested my life in something much greater than me. But mostly, I was broken. No, the Joanna that I let the world create was shattered, and then my REAL creator, my Redeemer, my Jesus picked up all of the messy pieces and began putting them back in order. He spent agonizing time on my frame, on my mind, on my heart. He used the words of His children to speak identity into my being, and He used to the truth of His LIVING Word to bring meaning into my life. He didn't make me into a small side project. He kidnapped me from my family, my friends, my bubble, my mentality. He interrupted my pattern, He turned off repeat. He said come, and I came. His feet were standing on the wave tossed ocean, His hands were outstretched towards me. I was comfortable in the boat, it was easy living in the same conditions that I had always lived in, but Jesus refused to be satisfied. He said come,

and I came.

For whatever reason. And He met me in the waters. In the moments when my faith failed, when I began to swim through the stormy sea, when I waved my arms in desperation, when I exclaimed, "I CAN'T. I CAN'T MAKE IT. I CAN'T DO IT," He gripped me, He pulled me, He carried me. And one way or another, I made it through the most intense 3 months of my life, and I came out with new eyes, new hands, new feet, new skin, new mind, new ears.

Ministry in Cambodia with ICF Church

For 3 months I experienced the culture of Thailand and Cambodia. I walked in the shoes of a foreigner, I did life as a traveler. With 5 other people, I felt the eyes of countless Thai's and Cambodian's watch the six foot tall Westerner on me, I heard "Farang! Farang, I sell for you! Cheap cheap for you!" screamed at me for 11 weeks. There were moments when I was ready to, as my mom would say, throw in the cards, give up, book the next flight home. I remember talking to my parents a week after Christmas, and bawling my eyes out, wishing I could simply sit in front of the fire in my own house, choose whatever article of clothing I wanted, sleep in my own bed, hug my parents goodnight. But instead, I went to sleep in an unfamiliar guesthouse in the middle of Chiang Mai Thailand, in a makeshift bed that was actually just two beds pushed together to accommodate the three girls sleeping in it, and in the morning I pulled the few outfits that I had out of my backpack and I had time with my Father. Because that is what is possible when you know you are loved by this God. By a God who created more than just Ozark, America. Who did more for you than what your little brain can take in. I never understood that Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me," applied to more than just miracles. Or maybe everything we do in the will of the Father is just a miracle. Sometimes getting out of bed in the morning to go invest your life in people who can't even understand your language feels like a miracle.

Mae Ai, Thailand

Nariwat and I in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Firmly believing we will see her in Heaven!

Now, I sit on the floor of the dining room at the YWAM base in Oxford, New Zealand. Tonight we will present the videos of our outreaches, share a short testimony, laugh in the funny moments, cry in the sad moments. On Friday, I will graduate and suddenly 6 months will become one more night, and I will fly away. I will arrive at XNA in Fayetteville, Arkansas, I will hug my parents, probably eat Chick-Fil-A, lug my giant bags into my bedroom, sit down on the bed, pick up my cat. I will venture around my hometown saying hello, embracing my sister and brother-in-law and their daughters, screaming at the sight of my best friends. I will go back to Ozark. I can say with confidence, however, that the Joanna you hugged goodbye, sent off to the airport on September 19th, 2013, is not the Joanna that is coming home. That girl had tired eyes, often fake smiles, and a lack of joy. She didn't know who her Father was, she didn't know who she was in the slightest. That girl isn't very happy that this girl is coming home. She isn't looking forward to coming face-to-face with the new creation, but there really isn't any avoiding it, is there? Because the truth is, the emotions of being home will die down. People will stop asking about what it was like. Things will go back to "normal" in the environment. But in the quiet moments with my Lord, in the intimacy with my Father, in the sweet stillness, that is where my heart will be at peace. That is where the battle against the former has been defeated. That is where my new home has been formed, and I can say with confidence that I will guard those moments with everything I am.

I want to say a final thank you to my supporters who financially made it possible for me to go through six months of radical transformation, who sent me into the unknown to meet a God who wanted to make Himself known to His daughter. I am forever thankful that you allowed God to use you, to be a part of something bigger than yourself. It has been the most amazing experience of my entire life.

If you would like to know more about this Discipleship Training School, I would love to set up some sort of coffee date with you. I also will settle for Taco Bell. ;)

Siem Reap, Cambodia

New Years Eve: Chiang Mai, Thailand

I guess in all, I just want you all to know that God has completely wrecked me in the best way. He was present with me through every feeble attempt to satisfy my deep longing for acceptance, He was completely aware of the heartbreak I suffered when I entrusted my heart into people and things that were not made to hold my heart or my devotion. He sat on my bed and wept with me in the times of loneliness, in the times of anger, in the times of hurt. He heard every heart-spoken prayer for forgiveness in my valleys of dark, ugly sin, and in turn He took my dirty hands each time and wiped them clean, made them new. His heart broke as He watched the mess I allowed my life to turn into, but it was never beyond His hand. "He called me out upon the waters, where oceans rise and feet may fail." He just reached out His hand, and all He required was that I took it, and He took me on the journey that has "begun a good work in me," and I am so thankful to be on it still. I am so thankful to serve a God who loves my joy, who loves my passions, because He created me with them. I am so thankful that my Best Friend is coming home with me. I may be leaving many people in the memory of DTS, but the one who has deeply loved me, pursued me, spoken life into me, created me, stood by me, HE is coming home with me, and He will never leave. I have started a life with this Best Friend, and the fact that I have the rest of my days on Earth to spend being loved by Him and loving Him in return is the greatest joy I could ask for.

Be blessed, friends. See you in the Northern Hemisphere.

Joanna McCormick
"God is Gracious."