Instead of displaying power to overthrow, Jesus displayed power to heal the broken. Instead of a mighty army, he chose a rag-tag group of twelve. Instead of admonishing the Roman pagans, he admonished the Jewish self-righteous. Instead of a forceful revolution, he came with a revolution of love.

I’ve been reminded that ‘social power without proximity’ is not the kind of influence I want. I don’t think it’s inherently or wholly bad. But I’m reminded of my clear calling in 2017 to get in proximity with people different from me to experience ordinary moments of living life together. And even in the mundane, caption-unworthy moments, profound transformation occurs. In the private. In the quiet. In the uneventful. In the messy. And that’s good enough. Heck, it’s not just good enough - it’s wholly good.

“Speaking is my thing. I shouldn’t be this nervous.” It was one month before my TEDx talk. I was sitting on my counselor’s couch processing the physical stress I was feeling… “I wish that I could brag that this wasn’t a big deal to me, that I’m a pro, but the truth is, I’ve been feeling anxiety.”

I asked her through tears if someone like me could be an LGBTQ ally – someone who holds a Biblical interpretation that God designed sexual relationships to be between one man and one woman. Missy, being a bisexual and a Christian, seemed like a safe person to ask…

This visual image of turning my ideological pockets inside out and dumping it's contents on a sifting table in the presence of God is keeping me in a posture of ultimate humility. It's not that He will address every item, opinion, Biblical interpretation, belief etc with me. Certainly He may - He gets permission. But right now, as my fingers are grouping letters on the keyboard together to form thoughts with you, I'm having an epiphany…

“[There is] a haziness, a veil that covers the American Western Church. A Christian culture that preaches prosperity as reward, comfort over conviction, emotional verse-plucking over Biblical literacy, unity that requires uniformity, cliques on Sundays instead doing life with neighbors, political wars masquerading as spiritual wars, behavior modification over spiritual transformation, Jesus’ friendliness more than God’s justice, and perhaps the most destructive and most enticing, moral relativism over God’s authority. Yes, even in the church.

… It’s a myth that our country is more divided than ever before. Contrary to what headlines and social media posts will make you think, there is a powerful uprising of people around this country rolling up our sleeves willing to do the hard work of confronting the limits of our love. People committed to learning from each other’s experiences; not dismissing experiences. People lamenting over each other’s wounds; not evaluating or diminishing wounds...

You have to develop thick skin to stomach all the bloodshed and vengeance documented in the Bible. And the fact that God seemingly used human life as the currency to pay the debt of dishonoring Him. But today I couldn’t do it. I read Rizpah’s story, shut my Bible, and cried.

It's a really rough week right now if you are reading headlines and believing that 50% of Americans are white supremacists, or at least they want one as their leader. If I was a person of color, I'd be feeling a tremendous amount of pain right now. But... (deep breath)

It’s no surprise then that you get a defensive, fearful, stubborn group of believers voting for someone who promises to change the system. Heels dig in. Walls go up. Opinions get stubborn. Lines are drawn. Not only that, many internalize that war not just against them personally and their values, but against God Himself. Battle on. Not me, though.

I had made a promise in 2020 to listen to the voices of minorities, but in just a matter of days, I was feeling the pains of empathy intoxication.

When I was a little girl, I’d get ready for church every Sunday by standing in the bathroom on the toilet lid while my dad brushed my hair into a side ponytail. Church was part of our weekly routine and I grew up with the Bible feeling familiar and approachable.

Just at the edge of Kigali, a city that swells to 3 million people during the workday, is the bustling bus depot. As the diesel fumes from large work trucks burn your nostrils and you navigate through the sea of red helmets of moto-drivers, you finally break through to the countryside.

Our conversation Friday turned emotional when we began discussing the oppression of LGBTQ youth and how judgement and condemnation, particularly from the faith community, impacts their perceptions of self-worth. This is a difficult emotionally-charged conversation but it’s not a two-sided conversation.

…the fact those are the only two choices is absurd. Another indicator that we’ve lost our reasonableness. So I’ll end my thoughts on a question I think we should all ask: What do we want?

On January 21 2017, when the world watched women passionately march for their beliefs, I sat at home feeling rejected, irrelevant and shamed. I watched the news and witnessed social media explode with photos of women being powerful, making themselves heard. And yet there I sat feeling powerless and unheard because I realized…

These lyrics we sang in church this morning had new meaning:  'Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God. Oh, it chases me down, fights 'til I'm found, leaves the ninety-nine...' It hit me... Amy, you're not one of the 99.

So I put the words "You are worthy of love" on yard signs to defeat shame and thousands of people all over the US have seen this message. But, there's a problem. You aren't worthy of love. 

It feels good to be self sufficient. It feels good to be strong. It feels good to be independent. It feels good to be enough (all things our particular culture praises). But it's a facade. We need each other. 

If you know me, you know I'm not patient. In fact, I debated all morning to get groceries via Click-List so I could avoid the store and lines all together. But something said 'nah, just go in'. I'm so glad I did.