Where's your heart? A Change of addresses

A couple weeks ago I went to the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) with my mom to add her name to the title of my car. When I received the paperwork to complete, one of the questions I most dread was asked of me. Staring at me, refusing to let me bypass its glare, read the word

Address

Why do I hate this “question” so?

I hate this question because it reminds me of the unknown. It takes what I thought I had finally come to terms with and had found an answer to and reminds me of how I really don’t know the answer at all.

When you ask me my address, I immediately understand that to mean,

“Where is home for you?”

A question I've been struggling to come to terms with since my first adventure in missions when I was 16.

In the last two years, Chico had become my home, but now I was moving to Brasil… with a heavy heart I put the address of my parent’s home. Fighting back tears, I heard God speak to me,

“Brittaney, where’s your heart?”

We've heard it many times, the saying, “Home is where your heart is.” With a tinge of frustration, I answered God’s question with, “My heart is in Chico, in Brasil, and in India for that matter!”

“No, Brittaney,” God gently replied “Your heart is with me.”

My heart is with God. My home is with him.

In a world of unknowns, where nothing is constant, and where even stability is insecure, I will rest in him, my Jesus, clinging to him with all I have because he is constant, he is stable, and he never changes.

May God’s peace that surpasses all comprehension, guard your heart and your mind in our precious Christ Jesus,*

Brittaney :)

*Philippians 4:7

August 18

In the midst of the waiting, where the light of hope grows dim, I find myself again, doubting.

“Am I really supposed to go to Brazil?

Is it really for this season, or is it for later?

Am I really hearing God’s voice, or am I hearing what I want to hear?”

I've written about this before… the uncanny thing about doubt is that it likes to creep in. Even after you've resolved to stand firm in what you know.

Last Sunday night, the 20^th of July, you could find me in the Flag Circle at our YWAM campus. I was lying underneath Brazil’s flag, staring up at it flowing and whipping back and forth in the nighttime breeze.

God told me that he was going to speak to me that night and like I had told God many times before, I repeated my desire of wanting to go to Brazil.

“You’re going sooner than you think.” Was God’s reply this time.

“What the heck does ‘soon’ mean?” I asked in frustration. “Is it too much to ask for a date?”

Before these words had finished forming in my head, God replied with, “August 18.”

“God, if this is what you’re saying, I need you to confirm it.” I said, praying for confirmation.

I went to bed that night, with peace in my heart and able to rest.

The next morning, during our campus worship meeting, one of the staff members, Michael, stood up and spoke to us saying, “I believe that God is calling us to be COURAGEOUS.”

Photo courtesy of Donnie Moore Ministries

On somewhat of a side note- this had been the theme of the Radical Reality camp we had just hosted, not to mention one of the things God has been speaking to me about. Funny how God likes to tell his people the same thing at similar times, huh? ;)

One of the leaders then suggested that we take a moment to ask God what that meant for us as individuals.

Bowing my head, I asked God, “What do you want me to be courageous in?”

“In going to Brazil” was his reply.

No later than when his reply had finished, when another staff member, Brittany, tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up. “Go buy your plane ticket.”Brittany said.

“What?” I replied.

“Go buy your plane ticket.” Brittany repeated.

Having still not heard her very well and probably not quite believing what I was hearing and wanting to be sure, I again replied with, “What?”

“God told me to tell you to buy your plane ticket.” Brittany said.

I began to cry and I told her what God had told me the night before and just a moment before she had tapped me on the shoulder.

After the meeting, I found another staff member, Robin and asked if I could talk with her. It seemed as if what God had told me had been confirmed but I didn't want to take that as my only confirmation and I wanted and needed prayer and advice from someone who’s been at life a little longer than I have.

I sat down with Robin and told her how I had asked God for a date. I then told her that I felt like he said August 18.

“Wow.” Robin exclaimed. “Right after you told me how you asked God for a date, August 18 is the date that came to my mind; before you even said it.”

“What?” I said, a cross between being dumbfounded and excited. “Why did August 18 come to mind?” I asked her.

“I don’t know” Robin said, shrugging, “it just did.”

Now, in case you’re wondering, no. I don’t have my visa. So what to do? Buy a plane ticket for August 18 in faith that I would receive my visa before that?

Robin prayed with me and I went to Brittany’s office to tell her of the conversation I just had had with Robin.

While in conversation with Brittany about all that had transpired, my phone starts lighting up with messages from one of my friends, Schayanne, in Brazil. Schayanne had been able to contact someone from the Embassy, concerning my visa application, who confirmed that it had been received and was in order. This contact believed that I should contact the consulate in San Francisco (where I applied). Schayanne encouraged me to call the consulate (they had told me not to contact them).

I did my best to contact the consulate, and after a minor redirection, I was able to leave a message with the visa department.

That’s where it was left.

I packed my bag that night for a family reunion in Minnesota and left Chico for the Bay Area, where I would meet up with my mom. Hope had been renewed.

HOPE- it meant so much to me.

After 4 months of waiting in silence, having heard nothing from the consulate, I now finally had something. God gives me more answers than the consulate does! ;)

I hoped and prayed that I would receive word, concerning my visa’s process, the week I was in Minnesota.

I was not disappointed.

While sitting on my bed, having just been in Minnesota for a few days, I decided to check my email before shutting off my phone and calling it a night. Opening my inbox and loading my messages, I notice an email from a sender whose name is in Portuguese and a subject line that reads, “Visa to Brazil.” I opened it up to read the following:

I was stunned; absolutely stunned and in shock.

“Mom… mom…” I said as I leaned over to my mom sitting beside me. My phone began to shake in my trembling hands as I passed it off to her. “I think I got my visa… I got my visa. Oh my gosh, mom, I have my visa!” My mom read the email and exclaimed in joy. I just cried. I cried for about 30 minutes as my mom and I prayed, thanking and praising God together for what he had done.

Four months. Four l o n g months of praying, hoping, trusting, doubting, crying, and praying and hoping some more and finally to have gained what I had fought for, what YOU fought for, what WE fought for together, for the approval and release of my visa.

Thank you.

Seriously, thank you. Every single one of you who prayed and every single one of you who encouraged me to keep waiting, to keep hoping, to keep trusting… Oh my friends, thank you.

God has made all this possible and he has used YOU. Thank you.

So… you might be wondering- August 18- is that my date of departure?

You betcha it is. ;)

More details to follow soon, please contact me with your email if you wanna know what’s up.

Brasil, here I come!!!! :D

Brasil, I choose you

Not gonna lie, in this period of waiting to go to Brasil, doubt has begun to creep in.

Am I really supposed to go to Brasil?

Is Brasil the country my heart is supposed to fall in love with?

Why Brasil?

I could fall in love with any country…

In dialogue with God one night, while looking up at the Brazilian flag, these questions came forth.

I felt like God answered me with a question,

“Do YOU want to go to Brasil?”

I thought, if I could choose any other country to go to, would I? It didn't take me long to reply.

I choose Brasil.

wait.

"Wait for the Lord;

Be strong and take heart

And wait for the Lord."

~Psalm 27:14

"Espere no Senhor. Seja forte! Coragem! Espere no Senhor." ~Salmos 27:14

This is one of the verses that God has continued to bring me back to, reminding me, in the things I want most, to be strong, take heart, and wait. 

"But how long, Lord?"

("Mas quanto tempo, o Senhor?") 

It's not the easiest thing to wait... and in the waiting, I can easily become distracted; little things that don't matter in light of the bigger picture, take on unnecessary importance. 

Oh but to remember, WHO I AM and what God has called me to do- to refocus myself and to remind myself that even in the waiting, God has still called me. 

My job in the waiting is to respond to his calling. 

I love the Português translation of this verse, 

"...Seja forte! Coragem!"

The declaration, a command to "...Be strong! Take courage!" Emphasized with exclamation marks, validating that waiting takes courage just as acting does. 

So here I am Lord, use me in the waiting. 

fight

The last week and a half have been rough.

I’ve been faced with disappointment, having heard nothing about my visa.

Dealing with identity and unconsciously wondering what I’m doing here; trying to rest in the fact that my identity is not contingent on what I do, but who I am, yet not having truly committed this head knowledge to my heart.

I find myself listening to music in Portuguese and wanting to cry, thinking that one day I will understand and speak this language.

Reading a book about Pelé (the world’s greatest soccer player) and how he helped Brazil win 3 World Cup Championships, I feel my heart swell with pride.

My eyes are drawn towards Brasil’s flag and its colors and what I feel, I think, could be described as love and maybe even a sort of “national pride” if that’s even possible for a non-national.

And while my passport is in Brasil (along with my paperwork, being processed), I am not.

For a brief moment last night, I tossed around the idea in my head of giving up on going to Brasil.

However, in the last month (has it only been a month?) God has been beginning to show me something: the importance of the fight.

The things we fight to have, 
will be the things we fight to keep.

In this “fight” of going to Brasil, it hasn’t been as easy of a process as I originally thought. In this process, however, my heart has responded by crying out more for this country and my passion and my love has grown deeper and stronger.

As a result of this, I believe that when I am finally in Brasil and things get hard- I hit a wall regarding the language, I begin to feel homesick, I grow tired of rice and beans or whatever else that leads me to contemplate booking a flight back to California, I won’t because I would have fought to get to Brasil and I will, in turn, fight to stay there.

Some things in life are worth fighting for.

To me, Brasil is worth the fight.

Running in the (un)dark

I’m learning to trust.

Again and again and again and again.

Yesterday I was to pick up my visa from the Brazilian Consulate in San Francisco and I was even thinking about flying out then. A week and a half ago, I received word from the Consulate that my visa paperwork got sent to Brazil. When I asked if they had any rough idea or estimation of when I might receive it back, the answer given to me was, “I have no idea. We’ll call you.”

No date. No visa. No idea.

Just a word from God telling me to trust.

To plant my feet.

So I continue serving at the YWAM base here in Chico, involved in a variety of ministries while trying to figure out what it looks like to plant my feet right where I’m at, while at the same time prepare and be ready to go to Brazil. It’s a paradox of sorts… one that I haven’t quite got figured out. Yet.

Tonight, while leading worship for our DTS (Discipleship Training School), we began crying out to God for the people and the places he has put on our hearts. We cried out for family, for friends, for our nations, for Brazil.

After almost two hours of worshiping God in our native tongues (we have people from over 8 nations) I packed up my guitar and walked outside to talk to God.

I began to run. At one point I cried,

“I WANT TO GO TO BRASIL, GOD!”

I stopped, not wanting to run any farther, afraid of the dark road ahead and the creatures that live there.

“Keep running.” God told me.

“God, I’m scared. I can’t see.” I replied.

“I’m protecting you. I’ve gone before you.”

I looked back to where I had come from; the lights from our property could still be seen. I then looked forward, the road was dark and unknown.  

“Don’t look back. Keep on moving forward.” God said.

And so I ran until God told me to stop and turn around and begin walking back.

When I was running, it was dark. I didn’t know exactly where I was running to, or how long I would be running. I didn’t know exactly why I was running and I didn’t think it was exactly safe to be running.

But, God told me to run. This I did know.

And when I ran, I felt peace; I knew I was safe.

When it comes to what lies ahead of me, in this next season, I can’t see.

I don’t see the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” concerning my visa.

I can’t see what is going on “behind the scenes.”

And as much as I want to see, I know that I DO NOT NEED to see.

I can TRUST in my savior.

Because I know that HE sees.

For Freedom

My first 5k and I was running for Freedom.

Freedom is something dear to my heart- especially emotional and spiritual freedom. There’s something radical about people receiving freedom for the first time. Freedom brings life.

My friend Rachel and I decided, going into the race, that not only would we pay our entrance fee, participate, raise awareness, thus helping the organization (The Aruna Project) rescue the women being trafficked in India, but that we would go into the race having a heart to intercede.

Arriving at the site of the 5k, feeling a little out of it from lack of sleep and coffee, as well as trying to wrap my brain around and comprehend exactly what and who we were going into intercession for, we signed in and picked up our packets.

Each participant received a number and a piece of orange tape with a woman’s name on it. This was a name of a woman who is still enslaved in one of the largest red-light districts in India.

India. Another thing that is dear to my heart. It was the first country I spent a lengthy amount of time in and the first country I visited that became my home. With all my heart I want to go back. Some of “my kids” are there and there have been nights I have cried for them, wondering where they are, praying they’re safe and loved, and praying that I will see them again one day. Being able to run for a woman’s freedom from a country I love was sobering for me. It was also a privilege.

Looking down at the numbers we received, I thought it was quite random. 61 was what my bib read.

I really believe the importance of intercession is huge. The dictionary defines intercession as the act of intervening on another’s behalf. It is an intentional time of crying out (petitioning) for another person or situation with the goal of seeing things changed.

But you must defend those who are helpless and have no hope.

Proverbs 31:8

We began the race and we prayed, we cried out, we yelled (yes, we actually did) and we sang.

I looked down again at my number

61 

Isaiah 61 came to mind (which I thought was really neat as again, this is yet another thing dear to my heart and my life’s cry).

 "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me, Because the Lord has anointed Me To preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, To proclaim liberty to the captives, And the opening of the prison to those who are bound; To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, And the day of vengeance of our God; To comfort all who mourn, To console those who mourn in Zion, To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified."

Isaiah 61:1-3

I read this chapter out loud and verse 7 caught my attention:

Instead of shame you shall have double honor…

As we continued to walk, we prayed that shame would be lifted from these women.

We finished the race but really, this is just the beginning.

While I was running for the freedom of a woman who is located half the world away from me, there are women, men, and children needing freedom from sex trafficking located less than 30 minutes away from where I live. The statistics and the facts are sobering. This is happening in our very own cities and something needs to change.

What can we do? In such situations, I often times feel helpless. However, we are not helpless. We can do something, we will do something.

To be honest, this is just the beginning for me, so at the moment I don’t have a compilation of resources or ways to get involved. For the meantime I have a skeleton of a guide:

1. PRAY – there is power in prayer and intercession. Seriously. Get a group of friends together, dedicate a couple hours to cry out for those caught in sex trafficking.

2. ADVOCATE – raise awareness. We must do something once we have been made aware. We do not have the right to stay silent when we have a voice. Run a 5k, make a sign stating one of the many sobering statistics, talk to your friends, family, church, sports team, etc.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

3. DO – get involved with an organization or ministry that is working with those who are being trafficked. A few of my friends just went through a training by SERT Ministries in which they actively fought this battle (check out their website).

Please, please, if you know of a site, organization, resource, anything, comment below.

Let us not remain silent when Freedom is to be had.