outlive your life

We just got back from a friend's memorial service.  Not my parents' friend.  My friend.  


His name was Zach.


I met him first when I was ten.  We first met as kids having to hang out because our parents were friends and got together frequently.  That's how I first got to know Zach and his younger brother, Ben.  Then we hung out because our moms became good friends and met each other each and every Monday.  Whenever Mom met her friend, she took Olivia and I along.  Later on, we hung out because it was something we liked to do.


For three years, we were good friends.  Maybe even best friends.  He was three years older than I but he was so engaging, so kindly; he never seemed to mind two little girls tagging along after him.  But, as we got to know each other, it was Liv and Ben who tagged after us.  


We played all sorts of games, jumped on the trampoline, walked to Burger King and felt very grown up.  They came over for dinner, we were in Explorer's Club together, we shared the same likes and dislikes.  He gave me CDs and I made him watch sentimental movies.  (He made me laugh for hours after jumping up in the middle of watching "Peter Pan 2" and shouting, "I BELIEVE IN FAIRIES!")  We went kayaking once, even went to the golf course.


Zach had the ability to connect with whomever he met.  He could meet someone for the first time and his open, joyful manner had them opening up within minutes.  He was kind, hilarious, and had a father's heart for the orphans in China.  The first time he came back from a visit over there he was bubbling over with enthusiasm for the culture and the people and his experiences and all that God had done with him and through him.  I was amazed and convicted that Zach had such tremendous joy in serving the Lord in such a hard region and that he retained that joy upon returning to America, for he took joy from anything and everything.


When Ben hit high school and Zach was a junior, we stopped getting together.  Our families went our own separate ways.  Life happened.  We grew up.


I heard the news on Monday that Zach had passed away the day before.


He was 20.


Today, at the memorial service, we heard many people share stories of what Zach had done, how he had changed their lives, how his passion for Christ and love for others deeply affected them.  And, as I thought about it, I realized he had changed my life as well.


Zach was the first person I told when I first wanted to join a swim team.  He was the one who encouraged me to try it out.  He was the one who took me to the pool and swam laps with me to see how well I did.  And, when I went to my first swim meet, Zach was there to show me the ropes and teach me how to do things right.


Now, I'm a coach for my swim team.  Each day, I interact with young kids, not unlike the two of us when we were that age, who are eager and ready to swim.  I get to hear how their life is going, I get to be God's love to them even if they don't know it.  They are my mission field for the time being; they are the ones I am reaching out to right now.


And it's all thanks to Zach.


He changed my life.  He changed many others.


If I die tonight, how many people can say that I had a positive effect on their lives?  How many can say that I changed their life?


Zach's impact will go on and he will be remembered.


I know I'll never forget my friend.


Goodbye, Zach.  I cannot wait to see you again.

share with everyone and anyone

We were starving.  After all, we had just run to the other side of the terminal and back to share the Gospel with a prostitute (click here if you didn't read that story) and we had forty minutes before our plane boarded and we were hungry.


I settled for a smoothie and was slurping contentedly when Liv and Anna returned from Taco Bell with their salads.  They chattered back and forth as they sat down until Liv opened the bag and exclaimed with dismay, "I don't have a fork or napkins."  Groaning, she got back up to her feet and pleaded, "Does anyone want to come with me?"  Olivia is very much a wild one but she is not comfortable going up to a waiter and asking for napkins or calling a swim lesson client on the phone; someone---usually me---needs to go up with her as she asks for napkins or, as what often happens, I ask for napkins instead.


This time Anna volunteered to go back with Liv.


I had only sucked down another inch of my smoothie when I saw them returning, half-running, and laughing breathlessly.  They threw themselves down on the uncomfortable airplane chairs and Anna announced in a half-embarrassed half-pleased way, "We just shared Jesus with a believer!"  She collapsed in giggles.


"What?!"  We grinned and leaned in closer.  We wanted to hear this.  "What happened?"


"There was this guy who had ordered ahead of us," Liv explained as she methodically began to unwrap her fork from it's plastic.  "Like in the Navy Reserve or something.  But we kind of asked him where he was from---"


"Bakersfield," Anna supplied.


"Yeah, but we were friendly but then we left.  But then we came back and he was like 'back already?' and we were all 'yeah, we forgot a fork'.  And then..."  She and Anna exchanged glances and laughed sheepishly.  "And then Anna went up to him and said, 'Hey,' and then she looked at me"---Liv mimed making a grimace and mumbling a little---"and then blurted out 'doyouknowJesus??'"


We looked at Anna and she was laughing and nodding confirmation that yes, indeed, she had done exactly that.


"That's so awesome!" I said.  "Then what?"


"He said yeah, he's a Christian," Liv continued.  "He's trying to find a church in Bakersfield."


Anna broke in, "And I said, 'oh good, I don't need to tell you anything.'"  Both Liv and Anna were flushed and grinning, pleased that they had been bold but embarrassed that they had tried to share the Gospel with a believer.


But we all thought that was the best thing ever.  They had overcome their shyness and embarrassment and were bold for the Kingdom and God blessed that: they didn't find a surly atheist or polytheistic businessman, they found a kind Christian who was pleased that they were sharing Jesus in an airport.  I think that is so awesome and I am pleased to run with such wild ones.

caution: wild ones in dfw airport

After three days in obscure Waco, Texas, my family, Anna, and I were headed back home.  Flying out of Dallas/Fort Worth airport at 8:30 pm, we'd transfer at LA and then fly to our little-bitty San Luis Obispo airport, hopefully arriving before midnight.  From the airport we had a twenty minute drive home.  All told, we were in for an exhausting travel day.  There is just something about flying that---while exhilarating since you're flying to a different/new place---is tiring and gross.  You are cramped in a freezing airplane with a hundred or so bodies, breathing stale air, trying to sleep but being afraid to in case you end up on the stranger's shoulder next to you.  It's like riding in a huge shuttle bus of subarctic temperatures full of strangers.  You need a nap and a shower as soon as it's over.


But back to the story.  We arrive at the airport, drop off our rental car (affectionately nicknamed "The Gangsta" car), and the five of us hopped on board the shuttle that would take us to the terminal we'd be flying out of.  A seat away from me sat a young woman only a few years older than me---in her mid-twenties at the most---and an elderly gentleman.  I didn't pay particular attention to them other than noticing the inappropriate outfit she was wearing, but an elderly dad and his daughter traveling was not something that sparked my interest.  I was busy talking to Anna and Olivia and also thinking of the message we had heard earlier that day from Christene Caine, who founded the A21 Campaign against human trafficking.  In it she encouraged us to take risk and to not be afraid to look foolish for the Kingdom (wild one, anyone?).  


However, in was not long before I looked across the aisle of the shuttle and saw my mom regarding the young woman with tears in her eyes.  Surreptitiously, I glanced at the two out of the corner of my eye and noticed that the man had placed his hand very familiarly on his companion's leg.  I knew then that he was not her father.  He obviously did not value her since he allowed her to dress in such a demeaning way and my heart grieved for her, especially given the talk we heard this morning.  She was being used and did not know how much God valued her.


Mom looked at me, saw I understood, and whispered, "I should say something to them.  I need to talk to them and if the Holy Spirit gives me words to say I'm going to tell them."  We sat silent and as our sadness grew, the young woman grew bolder.  


I began to cry as I sat and prayed in my heart for this broken girl (benefit #1 to wearing sunglasses: no one notices tears).  She helped personify the sex trade for me: she was one among 21 million others; that number now had a face among the multitude.  She was a drop in a roiling sea of lost and broken girls and I grieved for them all.


But neither I nor mom said anything; I didn't because I didn't want to call her out in front of the shuttle-full of people and because I felt like I wasn't supposed to.  My role was just to pray.


The two got off two stops ahead of us, heading to gate E34 we heard them say.


Everyone was quiet on our way to our stop, as we got off the shuttle, and checked through security.  It was only when we were walking to our gate that mom finally said, "I should've said something.  I felt like I was supposed to say something but I was too afraid of looking foolish in front of the people on the bus; I can't let fear dictate my life.  I don't want to live a safe Christian life," she said, quoting some of the things Mrs. Caine told us in her message that Sunday morning.  "And I regret it," mom continued, "I regret not saying anything.  The Lord wanted me to talk to her, I didn't, and I regret it."


We dropped our multitude of bags on the chairs at our gate and Anna said, "We have time.  Our flight leaves in two hours.  Let's go after them.  We can find them."  The idea was crazy and wild and we loved it: chase after a prostitute in the DFW Airport?  Why not?  


The five of us prayed together for boldness and wisdom and speed to catch the two before they boarded a plane.  Then Liv announced she had a picture for the young woman:


She saw an island and one side flourished with trees, bright flowers, soft white sand, and clear blue water but the other side had a dark shadow over it and where the shadow fell the trees withered and the plants died and rocks came up in the soil.  Nothing good grew on that side of the island.  Olivia knew that the young woman was the island and that a choice was before her.  


Dad decided to stay behind and guard the luggage because no one wanted to drag them to the other side of the terminal and back.  All of us girls---mom, me, Liv, and Anna---would go.


Our gate was E4 and we power-walked to the other side of the terminal, praying that we hadn't missed them.  


E34.  No sign of the two.


E35.  Nothing. 


E36.  E37.  E38.  Practically empty.


We doubled back and combed through the gates again.  "We're sure they said E34, right?" we asked each other.  Yes, we were sure.  We circled through that gate two more times.  Still no sign.


Lord, I prayed, please help us find this girl.  You want mom to talk to her, don't allow her to stay hidden from us.


"I see them," mom announced.  Sure enough, the two were sitting by the window of an airport restaurant; he ate chili while she perused a menu.


Anna and I took up our battle stations in the corner of a neighboring store as planned (we didn't want to overwhelm them with our formidable numbers)  where we would pray and intercede for the conversation.  Liv prayed for boldness to arise on mom before joining us.  


Through the glass we saw mom go stand at their table and began speaking, her face always pleasant.  The young woman laughed a little, glancing continuously at her companion for guidance.


Jesus, even if she brushes this encounter aside, plant the seed in her heart, we prayed.


In 10 minutes, mom emerged, feeling relieved and not a little sick to the stomach from her own boldness and the situation.


It turned out the girl was not local; she was from Ukraine or somewhere in Eastern Europe.  We were stunned; we had just heard an hour an a half message about trafficked girls in Ukraine and in that part of the world and here we were presented with a very similar situation in the DFW Airport.  The young woman traveled with the man and they'd been to many cities in the US on their trip thus far.  She was confused and did not understand what mom was trying to do.


"Jesus loves you and is actively pursuing you," mom told us that she kept repeating to the young woman, before and after she told her Liv's picture.  "He has a plan and a purpose for your life; He has only good things in store for you."


"What do I have to do to get this love?" she asked.  


"Absolutely nothing, just invite Him into your life," mom answered.  "He wants to be your friend so much."  


The girl laughed nervously.  "If I was better at English, I would tell you to stop and go away," she replied.  "


There were no tears, she did not exclaim, "I want to leave this life now!" but the point is that mom heard God and obeyed; she spoke to that Ukrainian girl who will probably remember that conversation for the rest of her life: the lady who talked to her about Jesus in the airport.  She didn't ask Jesus into her life but she listened.  She heard that He loves her and that He is chasing after her.


And mom?  When I asked her how she felt afterwards she smiled and said, "I absolutely do not regret talking to her.  Not at all.  No regrets."

world mandate 2011

This could not have come at a better time.  


We (my family, a friend, and I) just returned from World Mandate, a world missions conference in Waco, Texas put on by Antioch Community Church and once again I am dissatisfied with my walk with the Lord and am seeking a deeper relationship and a bigger heart.


Over the course of three days, we attended sessions, listened to speakers, and felt inspired and challenged, encouraged and convicted each day---sometimes at the same time.  There were moments when I did not know whether to leap up and dance, cry, worship Jesus, or plaster myself on the floor because He is so great.  We were able to visit friends, catch up with people we haven't seen since last World Mandate, take a tour of the Baylor campus, and hear what God is doing around the world.


The theme for World Mandate this year was Run To The Battle, which I thought could not have come at a better time.  As a senior in highschool, I am facing some of the biggest decisions in my life: where to go to college?  What do I want to do with my life?  How can I make an impact in the world and in the lives of others?  What would I be happy doing for the rest of my life?


Before World Mandate, I felt rebellious---maybe I wouldn't go to college; I had no idea what I truly wanted to do anyway.  Maybe I would go on missions trips and go through training schools before possibly getting on staff with a church or till my book was published.  Basically, I was so overwhelmed with the applications and college visits ahead of me that I coped by creating for myself the option that a college education was over-valued, authors did not need to go to college, yadda yadda yadda.  


But before World Mandate officially started Friday evening, we went over to a family's house for lunch.  They were the same family Olivia and I had gone to India with three years previously and we consider them to be surrogate parents who have had humongous impact on our spiritual growth.  (Surprise, Mrs. Johnson, if you didn't know that, haha.)


Mr. Johnson is on staff at Antioch and had just returned from a trip to the Middle East so he shared all these amazing and inspiring stories of what God is doing in the Middle East and I burst out saying, "See?  Why do I have to go to college?  Why can't I just do that?"


He looked at me and replied, "The future of reaching people is through vocations.  It is through people's giftings that countries are opening up to the Gospel.  When I sit around a table with people who are changing nations, I am sitting with some of the smartest people there are in their fields.  Find something you're great at and become the best you can be in that particular area; then you will have something to give.  You can't just show up at a country with only your mouth, you have to bring something that they need."


Thoroughly chastised, I sat and mulled that over.  I had never truly thought of my career in that way.  At the session later that evening, Mr. Seibert, the pastor of Antioch gave a message on bringing whatever you had that God's given you to the battle.  So I thought: what have I been blessed with?  What did I have that I could offer to nations when I show up at their borders so that they'd welcome me in and doors would open for me?  The most useful thing I could think of would be a nurse, doctor, or teacher, but I am none of those things.  Boiled down, my giftings are leadership, being a good communicator, and writing.  Here I thought in frustration, what can I do with any of that?  What can I offer?


You're a storyteller, God told me.


Big deal, I thought.  I'm writing a young adult fantasy trilogy.  How is that going to get me places except on book tours?  How is that something I can offer people?


At that moment, I looked up at the screen above the stage that flashed announcements and whatnot, and there a link flashed:


http://www.hisdeeds.com/, it said.  Below it I read: Telling the Stories of God.


Suddenly I realized that people need to hear the stories that are being created around the world.  God is moving in the Middle East but how are people in America and Mexico and Canada going to hear about it if people don't tell them?  How are people in California going to hear about a revival that happened in a grocery store in Boston?  This could be an avenue that combined all of my skills.


I still don't know exactly what I'm going to do but World Mandate helped orient me and give me a vision for what I can possibly do with the gifts God has given me.  In many more ways than one, God used this conference, the people there, and the news tidbits flashing on the screen to help me see the potential being a good writer and speaker has.

being wild in san diego

This past week my family and I were gone as a sort of birthday bash to me.  On Friday my mom and Charlotte and I drove down to San Diego to meet my dad and Olivia and were there for several days, then dad and Liv and I drove to Anaheim where us two girls were at Disneyland for three and a half DAYS.  As a Disney junkie, this was absolutely wonderful.  We rode rides, met characters, and generally had a fantastic time.


But that was not what I wanted to tell you all about.


When we were in San Diego we had the opportunity to visit a friend's church.  (If you'd like to check it out, go to http://allpeopleschurch.org/)  It was a great message about being the friend of Jesus and I totally enjoyed it---especially as it went along with the theme of being a wild one.


After church, we were waiting to go to lunch with our friends when I saw this girl sitting in the back of the church by herself, crying a little.  Seeing people cry in church is not a strange thing for me so that was not unusual.  Nothing made her stand out to me but suddenly I knew the Lord wanted me to go speak with her.


About what? I wondered as I made my way over.  I had no idea.


I sat down.  I still had no idea what to talk to her about.  She looked at me---I still had no idea.


"Hi," I began awkwardly.  "I'm Hannah and I felt like I was supposed to come and talk to you."  I paused and waited for a revelation to come.  Nothing.  So I just talked with her: I found out her name, that she was in her second year at Point Loma University, that she was rooming with---


Suddenly, I knew exactly what I was supposed to tell her.


I began sharing with this college student about a word I had received a few months ago---it was about being beautiful to Jesus and valued in the kingdom---and I knew I was supposed to tell her all of this.  I told her how wonderful she was to Him and how deep His love for her was.  At first she just nodded her head and smiled but didn't say "Oh wow!  That's totally what I needed to hear!"  But I ploughed onwards.  The Lord told me to give her this word and by golly she was going to get it.  Halfway through, she came undone and started crying.


Then Liv came over and sat patiently waiting till I was done sharing.  When I was done, she looked at the college student and said, "Hi, I'm her sister, and when I looked at you the Lord gave me this picture for you."  The young woman was sobbing now as Olivia shared that she had seen her as a white lily blooming in crystal clear water with deep roots.  It was a beautiful picture and totally touched this girl.


For several minutes afterwards it was her holding our hands and weeping, weeping, weeping.  I couldn't believe it---me, who never gets words for people, had just shared something that God is impressing upon my heart and look what it did!  It turned this stranger into a puddle in the back row of church.


Later she told us how everything we had told her was spot on because she's in a season where the Lord is teaching her the goodness and joy of His love.  She came to church run down, tired, and desperately needing encouragement and she told us so many walls in her heart were torn down because of what we had spoken.  Smiling, she said, "I feel so loved and blessed right now, so thank you for being faithful to what the Lord was doing in your heart and being obedient to what He was doing."


So I am totally encouraged because I originally went over to this stranger not knowing what to say at all except that God wanted me to speak to her.  Thank you, Jesus, for letting us be vessels for Your goodness.

why be a wild one?

Did you know that following after the Lord is exciting?


I didn't know that, not until a few years ago.


I've grown up a PK---a Pastor's Kid.  I don't think there's ever been a moment where I haven't been a PK.  I've read the Bible my entire life, gone to church, youth group, participated in Awanas---you name it, I practically did everything.  I memorized Scripture, was baptized, and learned witticisms like "Just like air, God is there", but I didn't get it.


Sometimes I think it's easier growing up in a non-Christian home---or at least not as a Pastor's Kid---because then you have that encounter with the Lord and realize how good He is and how He fills up that space inside of you that you never knew existed.  Growing up in a believing home, I've always known how good He is.  Sort of.  I mean, I knew He died for me and I believed in Him but I didn't know Him.  I never experienced "a moment" or had "a revelation".  Basically, I was living my parents' faith but it really had no impact on my life.


Then, freshman year I went to India with my sister, Olivia, on a missions trip and it changed my life.  For three weeks we served the poor, ministered on the street, and brought the lost to the Father (for more information on our travels in India, visit: http://bangalore09.blogspot.com/).  It was absolutely amazing to be the hands and feet of Jesus and I realized for the first time the amazing power of God, His wonderful love, and His desire to bring people to Him.


I came back home and since then the desire to walk in God's radical love has only increased in my heart.  A senior now, I have fallen so in love with Him that I want to be molded into the perfect tool that He can use to bring the orphans home.


As Henry Varley, a British revivalist (1835-1912), said, "The world has yet to see what God can do with and for and through and in a man [or woman] who is fully and wholly consecrated to Him."

what is a wild one?

It's simple:


Wild ones are radical lovers who chase after God with all their hearts, who walk in His anointing, and who see the Kingdom of Heaven break through in every aspect of their life; they take risks and aren't afraid to proclaim the Good News.


I haven't always been a wild one.  But I am beginning to realize that the world is hungry for what believers have to offer; the world is waiting for us to get wild.  And God is so beautiful and has been so faithful to us that there is no greater calling than to be a wild one.  If He came back today, would I be proud of the life I have lived?  Would I feel that I had listened to His voice and obeyed His calling?


I know I haven't.


But we are all called to be wild ones and I am going to live my life like one.


The only motive to be wild is because we're lovesick.  The only reason to run after God is because we're in love.