Is it new? This restless longing? I’m like a horse in the starting gate, waiting for someone to tell me it’s time to run.
I’ve been working on a thing. (I’ve worked on so many things, building out places and spaces and resources is as much a part of me as the fingers that type out my thoughts as fast as I can think them.) But now, I’m been working on a thing that I will invite you into. I’m calling it The In Process Collective.
Almost three years ago now, the plans I had for my life came crumbling down. There are pages and pages on another file on this very computer that attempt to describe what that season was like. But I won’t dishonor it by trying to sum it up here. I will say this, it left me changed; damaged in places I didn’t know a soul possessed, which only means that those places are now possessed by Jesus too.
This changed version of me is so exhausted by the motions of Christianity that seem so tame compared to the reality of the Jesus I met fighting the battles in the darkness. This changed version of me has sat at this computer for literally years, dreaming up new things and wondering when I will feel ready to hit post, to make them live, real.
What am I waiting for?
God told me long ago that I could not please both God and man, but the truth is – I didn’t get it. Sometimes you are given seasons of doing ministry with people who are pleased by the same things that please Him. You say hard things to people who live at arms length, and when you get their outraged emails you say with a pained sigh to your closest community: “I suppose I cannot please both God and man. And I choose God.” You feel noble. You never realize that maybe one day you will have to choose between pleasing God and pleasing your friends, your spouse, your children
When the voices that speak affirmation into you grow silent (or worse), it sometimes becomes clear that what you once called confidence was really just an approval idol that was delivering consistent approval; what you once called submission was really insecurity. True submission is born out of the very confidence of Christ – who was willing to lay it all down, not because He was lesser but because He was so very aware He wan’t.
In the darkness and on my knees, I know the truth with a fire and force that cannot be held back anymore. I know that His pleasure is my pleasure. I know that the question of whether I’m good enough has been eternally settled, and honestly was never really up for debate in the first place.
But in some small scared part of me – that doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t just need to think that I’m good enough – I need you to think that I’m good enough too.
Oh women of the Lord, what would happen if we knew who we were? What would happen if we were led by God – not man? What would happen if we stopped confusing humility with insecurity? What would we stop or start doing if we weren’t trying to earn something from the world around us?
I guess I’m about to find out. Cause I’m doing this thing, even if it’s just me and Him at the party.
Let me be clear: I’m not ready. I am totally afraid of the things people might think or say. Faith in Jesus hasn’t removed that, it’s just enabled me to move forward despite that.
I am not ready. I am in process.
That’s the spirit of this thing – The In Process Collective: spaces, tools, conversations for those of us who are trying to be us in the middle of this messy process we call life. It’s for those of us who are willing raise our hands and say, while we have not arrived, we also cannot wait any longer to be the women we were made to be.
The first initiative for The In Process Collective Initiative is a Women’s Thing. June 4. We’ll process (you can do that just by yourself if you are an introvert like me), we’ll worship (you can do that silently in your seat if that’s what you want), we’ll listen to Him together (you can throw popcorn at me if you don’t like what I have to say).
I’m praying you will join me. Sign up here.
Truth time: when I look around I get scared. When I look at the horses in the stalls next to mine I am aware of my weak legs and slow speed. When I toss my head and catch a glimpse of all the people watching, wagering and waiting to see what becomes of me, I want to go back to bed.
But when I look at the finish line, when I look at Him, and when I look at you, and when I look at the woman I am underneath all of the BS of life – then what can I do but forget all the false starts and potential injuries and run the race right in front of me?