Come alive

A couple of weeks ago I traveled to Seattle to visit friends and spend a few days immersed in the beauty of the Northwest. Seattle was my home for 6 years, and it was one of the most transformative times of my life. I fell in love with the beauty of the Puget Sound, the snow-capped mountain ranges, the allure of Mount Rainier, the red cedar trees and the colorful array of flowers that decorated the landscape across the region. Though I left the beauty of that part of the country to pursue the next chapter in life, my soul continued to yearn for nature's awesome display there. Make no mistake, there is beauty everywhere and there are incredibly stunning parts of our country and the world, but what happened for me in those years living in Seattle will forever hold deep treasures. I came alive. I woke up to life.

The great philosopher and mystic, Howard Thurman, described the significance of waking up to life when he said, "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

Have you ever talked with someone who seemed to be full of wonder, awe and had an unusual sense of joy? They have a sparkle in their eye and a grin that could explode into full blown laughter at any moment. We watch with wonder and curiosity. Sometimes we observe with skepticism and caution, wondering if they are mentally stable. After all, can't they see what is happening all around us in this crazy world! These are people who have come alive. On the other hand, there are many people who live life asleep, going through the motions. They are in a zombie-like state, conscious yet nearly sleep walking. In contrast to those whose eyes dance with wonder and who engage people with magnetic energy, the sleep walkers' eyes are dim and we barely notice them when we pass them at work, on the street, and in our communities.

I have come alive.

How did I come alive? What was the catalyst that caused my soul to awaken?  Suffering. Sadly, this seems to be the shared story across human history.  Awakening comes following deep suffering. Treasures are birthed in the dark seasons of life.

If we are willing, we will continue to come alive for the rest of our lives. We never "arrive" in the journey of self discovery and transformation. We simply keep evolving, if we seek it out. Once we stop growing, we start dying. My coming alive did not happen in a moment. It came over time.  

I was married to a man who was deeply wounded and in great denial about his own pain. His behavior toward me was controlling, manipulative, harsh and abusive. I was convinced that if I could just love him well enough, he would soften and then he could heal...and then we could heal. But my love was not enough, not even close. In fact, my love seemed to push him further away and he ultimately left the home we had created. The truth is that he had left me years before, pursuing other people, relationships, work and social adventures in hopes of filling the emptiness and pain deep within.  

It was in those years of being pushed away, criticized, mistreated, disrespected and emotionally pummeled that my soul was being destroyed. His power over me was strong, and I could barely withstand such force. As I was being stripped of the dreams I had of family, home and love, my soul was suffocating. The suffering lasted for years, and I had physical reactions which included inflammation all throughout my body. My skin broke out in rashes, my adrenal glands were fatigued, my gallbladder was inflamed and my intestines barely functioned. Even still, I held on to the hope of a miracle.  

My hopes were crushed when my husband walked out, and several months later declared he did not want to be married...to me. Turns out he got married two days after our divorce. When I found out (months later) that he was married, I laughed out loud for two days straight at the absurdity of it all. Who spends thousands of dollars and the emotional currency to get divorced, only to get married again two days later!? Then I cried out loud for two days. What a fool he was, and what a fool I had been.

How did I survive? Faith. Faith had always been important to me, but it was not a primary focus in my life until I became desperate. In those years of suffering I found a church community. I was surrounded by these amazing women who supported me, prayed for me and held me up when I could not stand. I learned to pray during those years. I learned to worship through tears and wept through nearly every service. I drenched my pillow with more tears than I thought possible for the human body to produce. I got to the end of myself, and found something so much stronger than me. I found God. In that finding, my soul came alive.

I awakened to the spirituality inside me. I became aware of the higher power. I learned how to tap into a deep sense of hope that was beyond my circumstances. My soul came alive and the inner healing began.  

Coming alive has completely changed the way I live. I carry with me joy, confidence and hope in this higher power. On my best days, I am both fully present to, and unhindered by, the circumstances of my life. I also carry the deep sadness and grief about all that is not right in my life, and in the world. Being alive means living in the truth of what is and having the courage to accept it. There I am compelled to follow my dreams. I am compelled to love. I find strength to forgive, to let go, to fail, to try again and live with a tenacity that calls me toward "more".

I have been coming alive for years and will continue for the rest of my life. I root my decisions in what makes me come alive. It is my barometer and my compass. It is what made me leave the life I loved in the Northwest. It is what called me back to North Carolina. It is what took me to Mozambique, Rwanda and Kenya. It is what made me say "yes" to the work of justice in Washington, DC. And it is what made me choose a career in coaching. Or maybe coaching chose me.  

Today, I am a Life Coach. I work with clients who want to come alive in the ways that are important to them. Many are taking steps to bravely transition into a new career, some are treading the waters of new romance, others are creating community and family for themselves. Still others are searching for a depth of meaning for their lives and finding their own sense of spirituality. Everyone is on a unique journey to discover the purpose and direction for their lives. It is an honor to be part of their own journey in waking up to life.

Let's come alive together...the world is waiting for us.

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” Howard Thurman

What would love do?

I've been thinking about love recently. Actually I think about love a lot of the time. I don't mean just romantic love, but all the various expressions of love. I think about how love shows up in life, work, relationships and experiences.

Love is a decision. Rumi, one of the most revered Persian poets from the 13th century expressed his deep sentiments on love through his writing. One of my favorites from him is "Love risks everything, and asks for nothing". Beautiful!

Some days love seems easy and feels natural. When we are greeted with kindness, respect and help from others, it is easy to love. Yet most days include encounters with people and situations that do not make loving easy at all.  Is it possible to love in every situation?  Is it possible to love the way Rumi describes, to love fully and ask for nothing in return?

I have been working with my life coach, Paula, for several years, and she has supported me through some of the most significant changes in my life.  We have worked together on my goals and I have achieved much in my time working with her.  But what has been more important than any goal has been the internal work, the changes within my mind, heart and soul. I am talking about a deeper transformation that has happened within, which goes way beyond the external success in life.  The most powerful coaching for me has centered around shifting my interior, which then has a huge effect on everything else in my life.  One of the intentions I worked on with Paula was to love well.  I wanted to understand how to love purely, authentically, boldly and unselfishly. We spent time in our coaching sessions exploring love, what it meant, why it was important, what was holding me back from loving and meditating on it in every way. A mantra came out of our coaching session one day and it is one I took away as a reminder of who I want to be.  The phrase is "what would love do"?

What would love do?  This is a powerful question.  If I want to be love, and therefore love is personified, what would love do?  When deciding how to respond to situations and people, I have a ton of choices. We all do!  I don't always know what to do, but this question points me toward the answer and a response that puts me in alignment with who I want to be.  What would love do in this situation?

There are so many experiences I have had with people who have not loved me well. If I asked you to tell me how you have been wronged in your life, you could easily recall small and horrific things people have done to you over the years. We could all write an entire book of experiences that would describe how we have been hurt, manipulated, cheated, lied to, abused, mistreated, abandoned, and violated in all kinds of ways. I feel certain that if you told me your story, that is, the truth of what you have experienced in life, I would weep with you. Our hurts warrant weeping. There is a time and a place for weeping, but love is always an available choice.

"Put on love."  This is a phrase that was written by Paul, the brilliant and famous follower of Jesus, whose writings are incredibly profound.  Paul describes the act of putting on love, like a garment.  It is like getting dressed each day.  We choose what we wear and we can put on love, metaphorically, along with our other clothing as we prepare for what the day may bring.

What would love do?  Love is action. I have learned so much about love through the kindness, generosity and loyalty of others. Love was a card with words of hope from a friend. Love was a ride from the airport after a long trip. Love was a surprise party to celebrate my newfound freedom, following a destructive relationship. People have been love to me in so many kind, generous and humbling ways.

Love is more than kindness, compassion and generosity.  Love is truth and justice. Love is also fierce, strong, and bold.  Sometimes love includes war. It is about protecting from harm, and fighting for justice. I have learned about this kind of love too. I saw what it was to rescue girls from brothels, to free families enslaved for generations, to remove a child from an abusive parent and hold the violators accountable for their destructive behavior. Love is protection.

I have just begun to uncover what it means to love.  I want to be love, in every way.  What does love look like today?

I want to BE love. This is the highest calling.

Slow down to speed up

I just returned from a trip to North Carolina where I visited family and friends. It was awesome. I spent time with my parents, my brother and his family and some of my best friends. We caught up on life and shared dreams, food, music, laughter and our latest endeavors, struggles and victories.  

One of the highlights for me was going to a Durham Bulls game. It rained nearly the whole time, but we all cozied up under a shelter eating tacos and drinking great beer. At one point I laughed until tears streamed from my eyes as my friends cracked jokes. In fact, I think I laughed more than I have in years, throughout the 5 day trip.  

Another highlight was attending a community event to honor veterans and celebrate freedom. It was held at a church in Pfafftown, NC where I grew up. Local residents brought their own chairs, ate hotdogs and watermelon, and drank sodas that were chilled in a baby pool filled with ice water. Most people drove their cars and trucks to the old church and parked in the grassy open spaces. Some walked. However, one young man drew my attention as he arrived late, pulling up on his noisy tractor which had an american flag on each side. The dramatic entrance made me think that, surely, he was part of the ceremony. But no, he simply parked the tractor next to the other vehicles and joined the crowd. 

My Dad was one of the event speakers, and I had the privilege of being there to hear him. He shared some history about the community, the church and his perspective on growing up in that rural town. He spoke about being in Vietnam, the prayers he prayed for safety and his gratitude for the life he has been given.  

After arriving back home in Alexandria, VA, I sought to get back to my task list... and it was long. I am launching a life coaching business and there are a bazillion things I could focus on, all of which seem important. After a few phone calls and attending a coaching webinar, I revisited my task list. It was far too long, and felt overwhelming. I decided to get some exercise to clear my head. I bounced down the 8 flights of stairs from my apartment to the ground floor, and before exiting the side door of the building, I stopped in the stairway. I knew I needed to take a moment to pause before rushing outside. I closed my eyes, took several deep breaths and spent a moment in meditation.

"Slow down to speed up." This is the phrase that came up for me. I don't know where I first heard this concept, and I can't say I even understand it well. Instead of going for a run, I walked. I breathed deeply and continued to seek guidance and understanding as I journeyed. The word "focus" came up for me, and I knew this meant that I needed to slow down and focus in order to move forward with any kind of effectiveness.

As I walked, I tried to be present to what was around me. I looked at the people passing on the sidewalk, many of whom probably work at the US Patent and Trademark office across the street from where I live. I admired the leaves on the trees and the beautiful variety of flowers, carefully landscaped outside of the buildings. I felt the thick, humid air and the sweat that dripped down my back. I looked up at the scaffolding that surrounded the pho restaurant on the corner, and a sign that said "men at work". I saw no one working. Maybe they were on an adventure too:).

I kept walking and ended up at one of my favorite landmarks in the area- the masonic temple. It is a massive structure that can be seen across the region and has been my visual for navigating toward home for the last 4 years. I climbed up those majestic steps to the viewpoint that allows me to see into VA, DC and MD simultaneously. I walked out onto a stone platform and began to do yoga- stretching, lifting my body, and holding postures. At one point I laid on my back and stared up into the sky, watching the clouds move slowly across the blue canvas. I grinned to myself as I considered what the Masons would think of me doing yoga at their temple. There are actual signs around the area that prohibit any kind of fun (more on that later).

I came back from my workout with more clarity and a "knowing" that, indeed I must slow down. I circled back to someone who I had pushed to schedule our coaching calls more quickly.  I revisited our timeline and let her know that I am just fine with our current pace. We need not push, force or rush the process. Slow down. Embrace the moments. Be present. Be peace.

There is a slowing down that is needed in order to be present to the heart, mind and spirit. Being present to my own heart, mind and spirit allows me to be more fully present to another. And we desperately need each other's presence. "Slow down"...I repeat to myself. Slow down to speed up.

New beginnings

It has been almost 5 years since I last posted on my blog and there are an immeasurable number of reasons I could share about why.  The most obvious reason is that soon after my last post, I joined a human rights organization in Washington, DC to head up their talent acquisition efforts and I began to pour my time, energy, and focus on that.  The job was an amazing blend of my professional experience, my concern for Africa, widows, children, protecting the most vulnerable around the world, as well as my desire to help free people from slavery, human trafficking and other forms of violence.  It also allowed me to align my spirituality with my work in ways I had not been able to do as intentionally before.  Being involved in the work was, and will always be, one of the greatest privileges of my life. After 4 years of leading the organization to bring in talented professionals for the mission, building strong teams and overseeing the hiring over 1000 people in that time, my position was eliminated.  New beginnings.

Once again, I find myself in a season of wide open spaces, freedom, dreaming and adventure.  I can breathe more deeply and feel a sense of wonder and awe about life again.  So much has changed since my last public post, both within my own being and in my external world.  What remains the same though, is my passion for writing, connecting with people, and living with purpose, intention and courage.

So besides time, why else did I stop posting to this blog?  I challenge myself with this question, wanting to get to the truth of the matter, and not stay at the high level reasons.  I remember what my next post would have been in 2012.  I wanted to write about the young man I met on the plane from Nairobi to Kigali, who came and sat next to me after I commented on how much I liked the quote on his shirt.  We spoke about everything from careers to spirituality and our families.  He shared with me the impact of the Rwandan genocide on his own family, and I remember how his eyes quickly scanned the area around our seats to be sure no one could hear him before he continued to disclose about the sensitive topic.  I even got permission from him to write about our encounter that led to a friendship between us.  And yet, I did not write that post.  I became afraid.  I was afraid of sharing too much, of exposing his identity or of saying the wrong thing.  It was too risky, I thought.  So I said nothing.  I kept the rest of the stories of my journey to myself.

In many other ways, I let my voice be silenced.  To this point, my name has not appeared anywhere on this blog.  I have only shared my writing with people who have declared their love and support for me.  I have written an entire manuscript- the story of my life- and I have literally let no one else read it.  Why?

No one is silencing me. I have chosen to be silent.  I have silenced myself.  Fear holds me back.  And the dangerous, deceptive part is that I can convince myself that it is somehow wisdom, or something else just as noble, instead of fear.  The truth is that I am afraid.  I am afraid of being exposed.  I am afraid of being judged.  I am afraid of being criticized, mocked, or worse...pitied! The more I share, the more exposed I am.  Yet the alternative and consequences of silence are far more risky.

My values run deep within me.  I desire to be full of love, integrity, authenticity, courage, freedom and truth.  And though I have moments of absolute greatness, I also fall sadly short on a daily basis.  I am so very human.

As I hand over the responsibilities of leading and working at International Justice Mission, I step into something far more risky which includes pursuing the dreams within my heart and the vision of how I want to live my life.

This post is a step on the path of deeper courage and vulnerability, and a declaration of my willingness to not silence my own voice.  I am thankful for the encouragers around me, whose strength and energy I draw from, and whose faith in me I can feel, even from afar.

Cheers to you, to us, for living life like we mean it.  Let's do this.  It's time.

Strangest man in Africa

I stepped outside of the Pemba, Mozambique airport to walk toward the small plane that would take me to Nairobi.  I felt the heat of the day and was thankful I was able to check my heavy backpack.  I stepped onto the plane and felt a strange sensation on my skin.  What was that cool, blissful feeling?  Oh, it was air conditioning!  I realized that I had not felt that sensation in weeks and it was heavenly.

I conversed with a gentleman next to me who lives in Canada and works for Samaritan's Purse.  Then we both sat back and relaxed for the rest of the trip.  We landed in Nairobi and I found myself in line beside a doctor and health advisor from Nigeria who was also trying to navigate his way through customs to catch a flight.  We exchanged contact information and have stayed in touch through LinkedIn.  

Once I got through customs, I found the terminal where my flight would be taking off from but I had several hours to wait.  I bought some water, then found a spot to sit.  I watched people from all over the world move through the international airport.  There were people from nations, religious sects and cultures that I had never seen before.  I could tell from their special attire, head coverings, bodily markings and groups with matching hair/beard styles that there are tribes in this world that I know nothing about.

After reading several pages from Mozambique Mysteries, a book that my bunkmate had left for me when she flew home, I was ready to get up and move a little.  I remember praying for God to show me who He wanted me to encounter while in this airport.  I believe God always has things for us if we are open and stay aware.  I watched as people rushed past me, not even giving me a glance.  I am so curious about people so I am usually observant about those who are around me.  One man passed by me that stood out more than others.  He was a large, white, middle-aged man who wore oversized, frumpy clothes and carried a clear, plastic duty-free bag which looked like it was being used as his suitcase.  I thought to myself "that is probably the strangest man in this airport!"

I made my way down the terminal, stopped to buy some macadamia nuts for a snack and found my gate.  I took a seat and began eating the nuts.  The next thing I know, someone sits down next to me.  Guess who it is...of course, the strangest man in the whole airport!  He chose me!  Well, when I had prayed, I had a different idea about who God would lead me to, but decided I would just "go with it".  He was dirty, had an unshaven beard, messy hair and reminded me of a homeless person just based on appearance.  He asked me my name and made small talk.  I had a very hard time understanding him because he had a unique accent.  Here's what I gathered.

He is from the island of Jersey off the coast of France.  He had just spent some time in Madagascar walking through the trees and watching glow worms which light up at night.  He highly recommended that I take this journey too.  Well, I am not so sure about that, but I thanked him for his input.

I decided to share my snack with him.  I asked him if he wanted some nuts and he gladly accepted.  I poured a bunch in his cupped hands and he proceeded to put them in his shirt pocket.  Throughout our conversation he pulled out 1-2 nuts at a time and munched away happily.  I realized that I had not even asked his name even though he knew mine.  So I said "what is your name?"  Seemed simple enough.  He mumbled something like "I dunno" and asked me what I meant.  He made it seem like this was a much more complex question than I imagined, adding that I could mean his birth name, his hari krishna name, his.... and kept offering various possibilities.  I replied with the one thing that came to mind "What does your mom call you?"  He said "Oh!  Stewart."  Now we were getting somewhere!  We were really connecting:).  lol

Suddenly he stopped talking and looked at me.  He moved his arm up, down and around as if outlining my whole being and said "what is this, who are you, what is your voyage?"  I began to tell him about my background in recruiting and new pursuit of a vision God gave me as a child about serving in Africa.  He was very intrigued and began asking all kinds of questions.  He asked if I was a mystic, a seer, a dream catcher, and a whole bunch of other things I was not clear on.  I stopped him and said that I didn't know about all those things he mentioned, but simply told him that I have a relationship with God, that I was a Christian.  I told him I pray, that is, talk to God and follow the peace He gives me.  Clearly he was on a spiritual journey and was trying to find the source of Light.

As our strange conversation continued, I heard my flight announcement and explained that I needed to leave.  I told him it was a pleasure to meet him and reached out to shake is hand as we departed.  He pulled his hand away and said reverently "I don't want to touch you".  In that same moment, he began to lower himself to the ground, exposing the array of tattoos all over his arms and neck.  He got down on his knees and did some sort of bow.  I stood there in the middle of the airport watching him on the ground and had no idea what to do!  I just told him to take care, wished him well on his journey and I went to catch my flight.  

As I boarded my next flight and contemplated that very odd scene, here is what occurred to me.   The act of giving (or sharing) breaks down barriers. The other men who I had encountered that day, from Canada and Nigeria, seemed much more dignified and accomplished by most standards.  It would have been very easy to ignore Stewart and dismiss him as a scary weirdo.  The most unusual person in the huge international airport came and sat down next to me.  I believe that something happened when I offered him my snack.  Perhaps I was meeting a physical need because he might have truly been hungry.  However, I think our meeting would have been nothing more than a polite exchange if I had not invited him in to join me through a simple gesture.    

I can't begin to understand what led Stewart to the forests of Madagascar to seek the glow worms, but I believe that he, like all of us, are on a journey of discovery.  Everyone, at times, asks the big life questions.  What is this all about?  Is there a higher power?  Everyone is seeking something or someone.  There are people all around us who may need something we have, whether it is a snack or a word of truth.   I pray that God always prompts me to live with eyes to see and a heart to give.  

My last day in Mozambique

My friends suggested we wake up early to watch the sunrise on my last morning in Mozambique.  The sunrises are glorious!  We stayed at the Iris base just across the street from the beach overlooking the Indian Ocean.  Pinch me!

We set our alarms, got up while it was still dark and made our way to the beach where we watched the dramatic scene unfold.





















I packed my bags, said goodbye to these beautiful people who had changed my life and answered their questions about if, and when I would be back.  I knew I could not promise them anything and explained that if it is God's will, I will be back.

Many people in my life gave money in support of my trip to Africa.  I was blown away by their generosity and even more amazed that the amount I received was the exact amount I needed to cover ALL the expenses.  I had overestimated my weekly supply needs (food, water, toilet paper, emergencies) and had spent very little.  I ended up with $300 that I knew I would not need in the remaining weeks.  I prayed about what to do with this money.

I ended up walking to the home of a missionary on the base, Mama Linda.  Linda is a woman in her 60s perhaps, who has given her life to help raise the young boys at Iris.  She is like a Mama to them.  I chose her because so many young men had told me about her influence on their lives.  These were young men, 15-25 years old, who devoted their lives to serving the Lord and the people in the community.  I knew something special was happening as she poured into their lives the Word, worship, prayer and teaching about godly living.  I introduced myself to her and explained that I had been blessed by people in my life and wanted to use the extra amount to bless the ministry for these young boys.  She nearly started crying and explained to me that she had been praying for the funds to help them!  She said that 30 boys had made the decision to be baptized and she needed money to rent a truck, pay for gas, food and supplies to drive them to the river to baptize them.  She said the funds would be sufficient to pay for this.  She prayed over me as I left to continue on my journey.  I walked away with my heart full as I saw the cycle of needs being met.  These 30 boys, the future leaders of the community, were able to be baptized!

What starts with a hand raised in need leads to another heart stirred to give.  Those who gave to me and my journey will never fully understand the eternal impact that it is having on lives on the other side of the world.  Thank you for your generosity!  I can't full explain what an impact this trip had on me to be able to witness lives being transformed....forever.

Love and gratitude,
Jen

Goodbye party

The day came when it was time for me to say goodbye to Mozambique.  Many of the friends I had grown closest to had already flown back to their home countries of Austria, Germany and the US.  Some new friends offered to take me out to celebrate my last night, which was music to my ears.  I had experienced moments of loneliness, which can happen when you are traveling by yourself and people you grow close to come and go, leaving you to your own thoughts once again.  So this invitation to celebrate with my new friends was huge for me.  We went to a local restaurant, ate chicken and fries, then played pool against some locals.

I think there was some divine intervention as we kept winning in pool which allowed us to stay on the table.  Turns out, there was a bigger reason we were there celebrating that night.  I looked over and saw my friends praying with some of the local guys at the bar.  They were sharing the gospel message to these guys who had never heard the name of Jesus.  Sometimes if you ask someone if they have heard of Jesus, they ask what village he lives in as they try to recall who we are talking about.  Can you imagine?  We use the name of Jesus in so many ways- sometimes in reverence, sometimes in vain, sometimes loosely with no acknowledgement of how sacred the name is.  Yet there are people all over the world who have literally never heard this name!

My last night in Mozambique became a time of celebration, but not because my friends were showing me a good time.  We celebrated 3 young men whose lives were changed forever.  I couldn't think of a better way to say goodbye to this place that I had come to love than over chicken, fries, pool and sharing the love of Jesus with these new friends.

I considered posting the picture I have of all of us celebrating with these Mozambican men at the pool hall.  However, the more I learn about the persecution that people face when it is discovered that they have become a Christian, I realize that exposing their pictures and names could jeopardize their safety.  People are being shunned, abandoned, kicked out of their homes, beaten or even killed for their faith.  The more I live, the more thankful I become for my freedom.  We are so free and don't even realize it until we see how others throughout this world live.  Thank God for freedom!