Do You Know Your Enemy?

Today, we hit the 15 day mark since our last day off. I'm spent, but it feels good. Our entire staff arrived last Thursday and let me just say, this group has the potential to be really, really incredible. Outside of our leadership team, there are only 3 other staffers who have worked camp in the past, and even our worship leader is brand new to the Fuge world. Its a daunting task to train 18 brand new staffers but my goodness, I have never seen a group of people so eager to learn and so willing to jump in and do the dirty work in 90 degree temperatures and humidity so high, your sunglasses fog up the moment you step outside. The smiles never leave their faces and they work together with so much joy. All other locations ought to be jealous of our PCB team :)

One of my very favorite parts of training week is called "Staff Share and Prayer" (or, if you are among the boys on our team, Staff Stare and Prayer, because of course, they think they are funny). Throughout the week, each staffer gets 15 minutes to tell the team their story; how they met the Lord, how he has changed their lives, their heart for ministry, and what life looks like for them after camp. Its a chance for us to get to know one another on a much deeper level and learn how to pray for our team as we minister together.

Each summer, I am continually surprised by the trials each staff members has faced. Rarely do you find someone working at Fuge who has had a picture perfect life; I've often wondered if Fuge hires these people on purpose because they are able to relate to our students so well. No matter how many times I hear a story of trial and redemption, it never fails to break me. These last few days have been no exception, and I have been particularly touched by the stories of the ladies on staff. Though our circumstances differ, it is so very clear that as women, we each fight the same battles. Feelings of inadequacy and insecurity plague our hearts, all rooted in the shame we feel as a result of a choice we made or a wrong done against us we were powerless to stop.

Father is using the stories to give me a glimpse into the strategies of the enemy. After hearing a particularly painful testimony (which I will not share out of respect for privacy), I stormed out of the auditorium furious at a thing I could not see. If ever I doubted, I now know that the Satan is a dirty, nasty, filthy liar. He has a knack for getting inside our heads and feeding us pointed, crippling lies.

You'll never be enough.


You deserved what was done to you. You asked for it.


No one else has ever messed up as badly as you. God could never forgive you for that.


You're a slut. You are filthy and defiled.


You're a hypocrite. 


You're used, damaged goods.

No one loves you. 

No one sees you. 

No one cares about the things you're going through.

You are totally and completely alone.


Sometimes we forget we're at war. Our enemy is not passive in his attacks; indeed, they are thoroughly thought out and carefully executed. They're personalized and they're effective if we don't know what we are up against. Because our enemy is not attacking passively, we CANNOT respond passively. Satan knows where you're weak, and he knows exactly what will tear you down. Shouldn't we know all the more?

In one of the most widely quoted writings on military strategy of all time, Chinese General Sun Tzu warns, "If you are ignorant of both your enemy and yourself, you are certain to be in peril."

In any war, be it between opposing nations or Satan and God's people, it is imperative we remain constantly vigilant of our enemy's presence. He never quits, and his tactics never change. His goal has remained unchanging through the entire course of history: to bring death to everything that is good and pleasing to God. His tactic is to speak lies to us, making us believe that we are either unworthy of the Lord's favor, or that God's favor is unworthy of our time. Our enemy can be understood if we will only take the time to prepare for battle.

When the enemy whispers lies into our hearts, one must fight back with the truth. In Ephesians 6, the apostle Paul calls us to put on the full armor of God. Its important to note that the only offensive weapon listed in that call is a sword - "The sword of the spirit, which is the Word of God." If we're going to fight, we have to go in guns blazing, armed with the truth of scripture.

That unchanging truth is simple; God is love. His love stretches far beyond our mistakes and our circumstances; each and every one was known to him, and yet he did not hesitate to go to the cross. He went to that cross for YOU.

When you hear a lie, it is imperative to know that Father would NEVER utter those words to you.

You are his precious child.

You are his beautiful daughter.

You are known.

You are fully forgiven. You sins are scattered as far as the east is from the west.

You are his baby.

He WILL protect you.

He WILL fight for you.

He calls you beloved.

You are safe in his arms.

Armed with the truth, we cannot allow the Father of Lies tell us anything else.

Program Training: Summer Camp for Grown Ups

Shoot. I'm beginning to remember why blogging frequently is such a lofty goal at Fuge. Maybe its because we run from 7 in the morning to nearly 11 every night. I feel safe in saying that is why I am dog tired tonight. Regardless, I'd like to catch you up on my first week back in PCB.

Lets just say I'm not cut out for manual labor (shock of the century). Tuesday and Wednesday were spent unloading 2 semi trucks packed with everything we will need to run camp this summer. Box after box was lifted out of the truck, sorted, counted and hauled across Shalimar's campus. Storage units were emptied and organized, sets were assembled, and much sweating occurred. I so wish I was one of those girls who just "glisten" when they get overheated. Alas, I still sweat like a man. Needless to say the first few days were exhausting and smelly.

On Friday afternoon, I began to train for my new position as Finance Director at PCB. While certainly necessary, these sessions were an ADD child's worst nightmare. Try making me sit still for seven-ish hours at a time. I swear I don't know how I survived grade school sometimes.

The evenings were wonderful though. At night, every member of leadership from each of Fuge's 15 locations packed into the PCB auditorium for a time of worship. I don't know that I've ever experienced anything quite as awesome as worshiping Father with these guys. There is something extra special about coming into the presence of God in the company of diehard, unashamed believers. Seriously, when was the last time you watched someone drop to their knees in awe of Father, with a total disregard for what others might think? Its a refreshing sight.

My leadership staff is incredible. I'm seriously pumped to be serving alongside these guys for the summer. Tonight we went out for Chinese...Picture 5 girls packed into a jeep while RAPPING praise and dancing like fools. We talk about things like acting and dressing in a way that is respectful to the guys we work with. We ask one another for accountability in consistent time alone with the Lord. Goodness, I've missed this kind of fellowship. I love being with people who share the same heart. I can already tell I'm going to LOVE these women.

As you pray in the coming days, please ask Father to bring the details together as we prepare for the rest of the staff to arrive. Ask that he prepare my heart, to allow me to do my work well, and to show me how to lean on his strength second by second. Your partnership in prayer means so much to me.

I'M BACK!!!

You know that phenomenal feeling you get when you come home after an unbelievably stressful day and put on your very favorite sweatpants? You know, the ones that are 3 shades lighter than when you first bought them and probably have a couple of holes in the hem because they're just a little too long (or is that just my problem??) Its that feeling of being comfortable...at ease...totally and completely at peace. That is how I feel right now.

I didn't just put on my worn out Fuge sweats though. Instead, I have a fresh cup of coffee and I've just sunk myself into my favorite booth at Panera Bread in Panama City. I'm FINALLY back. Goodness gracious, there have been times in the last few months that I thought this moment would never arrive. I feel so content to be in a familiar place where the Lord and I convened over hot coffee so many times last summer.

This morning, I said goodbye to my precious family. They are on vacation in Clearwater this week, and I got to spend a couple days relaxing with them before it was time to make my way to PCB. Before I hit the road about 9 this morning, my whole family gathered in the living room of the condo to pray over me. I wish I could have snapped a photo to share with you...what a precious sight it was! I'm continually reminded how crazy blessed I am to have a family that wholeheartedly supports this ministry. They're my own little army of prayer warriors.

As I made the 7 hour trip to the panhandle in the silence of my little jeep (silence is painful for me, as I'm sure you know), I couldn't help but wonder...Would you like to join them?

I once heard it said that not all of us are called to full-time ministry, but we are ALL called to ministry in some kind. There's a good chance most of you aren't able to drop everything and do camp for a summer (though I SO wish you could). You may be a nurse, an accountant, or a McDonald's drive-thru worker. Whatever you do, you are so very necessary (especially you McDonald's guys...I can't live without my $1 sweet tea), and while you do whatever Father has called you too, you are still very much able to be involved in ministry. I have a simple request of those who desire to come aboard: Join the army of those interceding on behalf of the PCB Fuge team this summer. We desperately, desperately covet your prayers as Father stretches us beyond belief while we love on camp babies (who are actually teenagers) and testify to the gospel of the grace of which we are all partakers.

I'll do my best to update you frequently. For now, here are a few requests you can take to our Father:

1. JOY. The 6 members of our leadership staff are arriving today, along with our coordinator, Mark, and we will be setting up camp for the rest of the staff to arrive. Its a mundane task, but one that must be done. Over the next few days, pray that God will give us joy as we prepare to get down to the good stuff.

2. Quick Friendships. Its scary walking into a group of strangers, and though there is comfort in knowing we share the same passion for the gospel, the "newness" can be awkward and intimidating (again, that could just be my own weirdness). Pray our team will bond quickly as we prepare to serve in unity.

3. Teachable hearts. Most of us are coming to camp to teach. Being teachers, we often forget to that we too are still learning. Pray our hearts would be mailable; that we would willingly serve as student teachers this summer. Our ministry will certainly suffer if we aren't growing daily ourselves.

Its time for me to run. I have 6 minutes until I'm officially late:) I'm so, so grateful you are joining me in this. I'll keep you posted on what Father is up to down here. I can't wait to see!!

Love you all!!!

Where is the Good in Goodbye?

Disclaimer: This was actually written last Thursday, but for editing purposes, was not posted until today. References to “today” actually mean Thursday. Not that you probably actually care…)

I am so very broken tonight. When it comes to these things, I try so hard to stay positive, but I don’t have it in me today. I  believe Father for the promise in Rom. 8:28, I do, but this is one of those times I carry to him my broken little heart, weeping as I say I simply do not understand.

I hope you won’t think of this as melodramatic. To be honest, I’m quite shocked at myself for reacting this way. If nothing else, I trust the mommas reading this will understand. (disclaimer 2: I am NOT a mother myself. I swear.) Allow me to back up and explain.

On October 7, 2010, I met the love of my life. She came to me at just six weeks old, and I will never forget the first time I saw her. She was sound asleep under what became her very favorite green crochet blankie, and all I remember thinking was that I never knew a human being could be that small.

Ellen was a doll to be sure, and I had just been hired as her nanny. I have no doubt this was a God thing, because I had been searching for a job for a few months, and I was COMPLETELY unqualified for this one. My only experience with babies was making faces at them from a few pews back during church, so aside from thinking they were adorable, I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do with one.

Much to my shock, Ellen’s mother placed the baby in my arms after only five minutes of my arrival and quickly ran out to work. I had no idea what to do with her, but I began to learn as I went. We spent a lot of time rocking and reading (The very first book we read together was- I kid you not- Gone with the Wind.) and I sang to her often. To this day, she is the only audience who actually smiled when I sang. I also found that she loved being propped up on my legs. We would sit like this all the time while I talked and she made faces back at me. I took this picture during this very routine on our first afternoon together. The look on that face just screams Woman, who are you and WHY do you talk so funny??

Ellen and I spent countless hours together, especially in those first few months. Her mother is an attorney, and just a few days after Ellen was born, one of her cases was sent to the US supreme court. An exciting time, no doubt, but nearly impossible with a newborn on your hands. In the months during that case, Ellen and I spent countless hours together as I learned by trial and error how to care for a baby. I began to pick up on what she loved and what she hated, how to make her laugh and how to make her take a nap. And during those first few months, I fell head over heels in love.

Today, almost two years after our very first afternoon together, I had to say goodbye to Ellen for the last time. A few weeks ago, her parents informed me that they would be taking new jobs in Maine. They were scheduled to leave at the beginning of July, so when I left for camp, I would probably not ever see Ellen again.

I’m sure you can figure out how this went down today. Normally, Ellen is the one throwing a temper tantrum, so when her dad came home from work to pick her up, I don’t think he was expecting to see me in tears instead. We aren’t talking about graceful tears either. My red face was covered in a mixture of snot and mascara (gross, I know.) and I struggled to make coherent sentences.  I don’t really recall the last time I cried that hard. In fact, I don’t really remember the last time I cried at all. It is so unlike me, so I think I was more surprised than anyone at my reaction.

Never in my life did I ever think I could love someone as much as I love that little girl, and knowing I will probably never see her again on this side of eternity is more than I can wrap my head around right now. I have witnessed almost every first in her life, from the first time she held her head up alone, to first bites of solid food, first steps and first words. I taught the child to roll over, for crying out loud! (This process is far more complicated than it sounds and relied heavily on live demonstrations by me. I am not ashamed.)

As I reflect on our time together, I now see that Father was using it as one giant object lesson. In a practical sense, I have learned as much about caring for a child as a new parent would (congrats to my future first born…you will not have to be the guinea pig in your baby years).  But more than that, I have learned what giving and receiving unconditional love is all about. I would go so far as to say I’ve gotten the best glimpse a human can get of the way that Father loves his children.

Throughout the tantrums that seemed to have no solution, the hours and hours of the same Elmo DVD on repeat, and even an episode of being pooped on, there was not a moment I thought that Ellen was anything less than the most wonderful baby on earth. If ever I doubted that God loved me fiercely even when I did idiotic things, Ellen taught me that it isn’t even possible. Unconditional love just doesn’t work that way. 

Ellen during one of our many afternoon naps.

The sweet thing was, Ellen seemed just as mesmerized by me as I was by her. I didn’t have to do a thing to earn it…we were best friends and that was that. She took delight in the simplest things; touching (and accidentally pulling) my hair as often as she could get her hands on it, discovering that I too had a belly button just like she did, and kissing my face as often as she could. She once fell asleep on the guest bed while sucking on MY thumb rather than her own. The girl who will replace me has a lot to learn.

Holding Ellen while she slept was the best of all. I loved listening to her quite baby snores and knowing that she wouldn’t nap anywhere else because she loved to cuddle with me; those moments were like hugs from God. Oh how he loves me! Even more, he wants me to take the same delight in him. God WANTS you to be mesmerized by him, wants you to display your affections, and wants you to take comfort in the protection of his arms. I so often fail to lavish that love back on him.

So if you happen to pray for me, please lift me up in the days ahead. I didn’t know this was going to hurt the way it does. My goodness, I’m going to miss that girl.

Snake Attacks and my love for the Twitter

If y’all know me at all, you know I have a deep love for the twitter. I suppose its because my mind runs about a zillion miles an hour at any given point in the day, and sometimes I just don’t have anyone to share it with. My sweet Ellen is the love of my life, but conversations with a two year old are mostly one sided (I pour out my soul to her, and her only advice is, of course, “Elmo”). Twittering seems to cut down on all the junk in my head. Although I should mention, some rando did tweet at me claiming that he would rather follow a fake account for someone’s dog than me. To each his own, I suppose.

But the other reason I love the twitter is that it allows me to get inside other people’s heads. I’m random, and I love people who are. My favorite tweets are not news articles or sports updates, but those that allow me to dip into someone’s thoughts and heart. Not only does twitter allow me to do this with my friends, but with celebrities as well. Its fun to be connected with with such a broad array of people all across the world at any given time.

Now, I must say, my very favorite tweets come from my life long girl crush, Beth Moore. I LOVE the woman, in a totally heterosexual, I want to be her and be her best friend simultaneously kind of way.  She’s from Texas. She has phenomenal hair. She talks just like me. The woman carries a shotgun for pete’s sake! What’s not to love?? Needless to say, I hang on Beth’s every tweet. I watch for them constantly. Sometimes they’re lighthearted, and sometimes the woman can communicate a life changing truth in a mere 140 characters. She blows my mind.

She did it again on Saturday. That afternoon, my twitter best friend said this:

“On a walk thinking about how once you’ve seen a real snake, every old stick begins to look like a snake. Sometimes, its just a stick.”

I’ve been chewing on that one for several days now. Its probably because I can relate so very well. You see, there is a small hole in the step of my porch just large enough for a snake to fit through, and like clockwork every March, a family of garden snakes takes up residence under my front porch. Now, I try to be manly and independent in most things, but when I see a snake, I scream like the girl I am and run like heck. Shoot, I don’t even like looking at pictures of them. So after I catch sight of them in the spring, I become petrified of mowing. I know, I know, they’re more scared of me than I am of them. I don’t really buy that (even if a lawnmower is standing between the two of us). So when I do work up my nerve to get out and cut the grass, every single stick I run into turns into a monstrous rattlesnake. I scream. I run. Sometimes I hit the brink of hyperventilation. When I come to see that its really just a fallen tree limb, I move back into my work until I come across another and repeat the routine.

Its really no way to live.

See, once you’ve encountered something terrifying in your life, something truly devastating that rattles you to the core, its normal to be shaken. Its expected that one would proceed with caution. But when the fear of crossing another snake keeps us from taking care of business, aren’t we missing out on the life Father has called us to?

There’s really an underlying problem in it all. I don’t think its the snake we are afraid of so much. In my life, sometimes I struggle to believe that Father really wants good for me. From my simple, childish perspective, “good” isn’t always the hand I’ve been dealt. But to live in constant fear of crossing another monster, we’re calling scripture a lie. Father promises his children that he has plans for our good and not our harm (Jer. 29:11) and he promises a life of abundance (John 10:10).

The Lord never promised a life of ease. He never promised one of safety in the human sense. But he did promise that he works ALL things together for good (Rom. 8:28). When thinking back to January’s Passion Conference, I am often reminded of some of the most profound words I have ever heard, which were brought from author and Bible teach Christine Caine. In light of dangerous situations, Christine said this:

The end goal of a Christian’s life should never be to arrive at death as safely as possible.

Safety in this life isn’t what I’m after. God’s glory in all circumstances; now THAT’S what I want to chase. I don’t want to live in fear. I don’t want to expect my loving Father to do me harm. He said he wants good for me, and that’s a PROMISE. The dangers we perceive, sometimes they’re not really that scary at all. Sometimes, y’all, that snake in the yard is just a little old stick.