check out the new blogs and photography!!

http://web.me.com/stephanie.moors/Be_Free_/Be_Free_.html

new blogs and photos!

http://web.me.com/stephanie.moors/Be_Free_/Be_Free_.html

Moving My Blog...

I've moved my blog (and added a few more) to a mac website. you can actually subscribe to the blog and recieve email updates.

enjoy!

http://web.me.com/stephanie.moors/Be_Free_/Be_Free_.html

Recentering

I am feeling judged all the time lately.

Judged for the way we choose to eat and live.

Judged for the friends I have (and don't have).

It is almost completely overwhelming. Honestly, my first instinct is to find a place to hide.

I conjure up images of smooth beaches and cool waves; warm sun spilling out over the sand and water like a blanket. A place that it totally empty. No one but myself, my man, my babies and the dog. How long could I hide here? How long could I live without the people I am running from?

The problem is that I hate conflict. I hate to feel unacceptable. I hate being the source of frustration or anger.

But I can't hide. Let's be honest, I'm too poor to hide. :) And hiding would only cause more conflict, which would only drive me deeper into my little hole.

So, I guess I have to stay where I am and attempt to sort myself out.

Because I am a judger too. I judge people I don't know, don't understand, and don't like. I follow other people's judgements towards others more often than not. It is easier to look down on someone else than to consider my own inadequacy.

Don't get me wrong, I FIGHT this tendency with my whole heart. I have absolutely no desire to judge another human being. Their pain only causes me more pain.

I've been trying to tell myself that PEOPLE don't really have a hand in measuring my adequacy. I am acceptable only because I have asked to be bound to the altar and have chosen a way of life that will require me to surrender my brokenness over and over again. If someone despises something about me and it causes me to shrink back and writhe in agony, I have set my heart on a fading hope.

Who can affirm me to the point of life?

Who can resurrect my feeble heart when I have been crushed by someone's opinions?

Ahhh..

I have momentarily lost my center. I have become unbalanced.

Life seems to be a constant repositioning. I am always having to step back to find my breath again. I am always having to remember who God is.

Today is no different.

People don't like some things about me.

Okay. I guess it happens. And if it is truly about me, then I might lose my footing altogether.

But my life is set on something else.

So, I guess I move forward. Not to a perfect beach clothed in solitude, but to my life and it's inhabitants... To Jesus, at the very center of my life, brimming over with the kind of love that causes a man to race to the woman he loves - to pay her dowry.

I am my Beloved's.

My Beloved is mine.

she is everywhere

I've watched it happen from my own house.

A young man forgets wisdom; he dismisses insight, and he walks too close to her house.

The house where she waits.

In the time of shadows and secrets she meets him, dressed as a prostitute, skilled at taking an advantage.

She is loud like a blaring commercial.

She is a wanderer, riding the waves of the internet looking for her prey.

She stands over the street, a giant billboard, tantalizing and seductive.

She is in the market, sprawled over magazine covers, half clothed and whispering.

At every corner she lies in wait.

She doesn't wait to be approached.

She seizes him and kisses him.

With a bold face she tells him,

"I've come to find you; looking everywhere to seek you.

My bed is ready and will quench your thirst.

Come, let us take our fill of "love" till morning.

My husband is gone; there is a thrill in knowing that I am never really your's.

You will never have to commit to me."

She persuades him and with smooth talk she compels him.

At once he follows her,

as an ox goes to slaughter,

or as a stag is caught fast as an arrow pierces it's liver,

as a bird rushes into a snare;

he does not know that it will cost him his life.

So, listen to me.

Cling to these words.

Don't let your heart turn aside to her ways;

do not stray into her paths,

because she will lay you low as she has done to everyone else.

Her house is only a rest stop on the way to death.


-Proverbs 7:7-27 (in my own words)

He is in the Fire

It seems like grief is bubbling up on every side these days.

There is sorrow in this world.

There is loss.

Where is God in sadness?

A few months ago our really good friends found out that their unborn baby girl has spina bifida. Immediately this precious mama felt the stirring of the Holy Spirit and asked for people to come and pray for the healing and health of her little one.

As we walked through the front door into the full living room I was struck with the strangeness of this group of people. In ordinary circumstances we probably wouldn't all be in the same room. We were all so different, drawn together by the one thing that makes us family - Jesus.

Everyone knelt down; no one sat on a chair or stayed standing. With an unspoken brokenness and urgency every single person, young and old, sank to the ground.

And then we wept. We all cried.

And we prayed.

Looking around at the tear streaked faces of the people around me I was so struck with the holiness of the moment. The Message Bible says that "a basic holiness permeates everything."

Holiness saturates our air; thick and sweet.

Not long after that prayer meeting my girlfriend wrote to me about a woman she knows who was lying unresponsive in the ICU due to toxic shock syndrome. Her 3 little ones (one of her kids is 11 weeks old) are waiting for her to be healed and come home.

And then another friend posted a link with a video made by the parents of a beautiful 5 year old girl, asking for prayer. Their daughter, Kate, has a brain tumor.

A few days ago we found out that my vibrant, life-loving aunt has cancer.

Grief.

Loss.

Sorrow.

The mama of the unborn baby posted a prayer on Facebook. She wrote:

"This has all been a blur, but the goodness and faithfulness of the Lord stands out clear in my head. Separated from the mess and distinguished above all of the pain and fear is He. He sits alone, and from His holy hill he listens. My mind is full of the Lord, my thoughts captive to Him. He has told me to be persistent. He has told me to hope. He has told me to wait, and be still. He has told me that His power is over this child, and that I will behold it. I prayed that He would not let me be ashamed. When Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were thrown in the fiery furnace, Nebuchadnezzar looked in and said, "Look, I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like the Son of man." This is my prayer... that when they look at the ultrasound in about 3 weeks that they would call out, "Look, who is with her? It looks like the Son of Man." That she would be unharmed and unbound, that the things they thought would hold her would be gone, that they would burn away that they would be healed in the POWER of His presence. That the hearts of the doctors and nurses and the hearts of those sitting and watching would be turned to Him. That they would know who reigns. I want them to proclaim as Nebucadnezzar proclaimed, "How great are His signs, How mighty His wonders! His kingdom is an eternal kingdom; His dominion endures from generation to generation." Our God is good and we wait in anticipation."

So, this has also become my prayer.

I pray that my aunt, my family, the children of the mama in icu, the mama herself and her husband, sweet kate and her parents and siblings, our friends and their unborn daughter, their 3 year old daughter, and their entire family all would see Jesus in the fire with them.

I pray that we would ALL see God in our sadness; that we would encounter him untying our hands and feet.

Freedom.

Miracles.

Life.

The Help We Need

Tonight we took our kids swimming just as the sun was setting.

The Phoenix summer is in full swing and it has been well over 100 degrees everyday for a few weeks.

Our pool water was slightly cool and was a beautiful oasis in our little backyard desert.

After playing with the kids for a little while they moved on to climbing all over Joe and I was suddenly aware of how beautiful the moment was. I floated on my back and watched the sky. The sun wasn't quite down, but the moon was fitted like a bright sliver in the clouds. The trees and cactus were dark against the blue and grey expanse. It was amazing.

It was one of those moments where I became very aware of how useless our rushing and pushing and striving are. It is so human of us to fight for status and order. It is so human of us to want to monitor our spiritual growth.

Brennan Manning said something along the lines of "If I had it to do over again, I would climb more mountains, swim in more oceans, and live more adventures. I wouldn't waste one single moment on monitoring my spiritual growth. I'd just make the next decision in love. And then the next. And the next." (these are not necessarily his exact words...).

As for me, I would float on my back more - face to the sky. I would swing in more hammocks. I would stand in the ocean and watch the endless horizon. I would ride rapids and stand under waterfalls. I would play with my children without stopping to put something away. I would laugh with my husband without being reminded of the sorrow of our past. I would soak up the sun and hike in the desert. I would read books, filled with people's opinions and interpretations of Jesus and his words. I would practice yoga outside and meditate on the roof. I would sleep in foreign countries and walk with the broken.

All of this without counting out my spiritual points; without expectation of spiritual growth. Just to live. Just to love. Just to breathe and remember where my breath comes from.

Over the last few weeks I have stood in the thick of a nasty spiritual battle and, let me tell you, my temptation has been to DO all the things I can think of to WIN this battle.

But there is nothing I could do to win this one.

Very spiritual people would tell me to "work it out"; to be disciplined and aware of where I am stepping at every moment.

But, in deep and steadying whispers, I heard Him saying, "Be still. Rest. Wait."

And then someone said that we could come to God, broken and in pain and ask for either the healing we want or the help that we need.

And we could trust Him to know which one was best for us.

So, I asked.

And I didn't do anything else. I just waited.

Truthfully, the spiritual bondage of my battle lifted. The enemy stepped back.

He sent me the help that I needed.

Not that this battle is over. It is far from over.

But the Rescuer is on my side.

And, even tonight, floating in the pool I was reminded to rest.

Let Him be the Deliverer.

It is fruitless and sad to try to monitor where I stand.

All I can do is love. Love my Rescuer. Love my family. Love my community. Love my life.

All I can do is make leap after leap into the holy-hippie life. Free. Organic. Rested. Adventure. Uncaged. Aware.

Oil and Dew

Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity! It is like the precious oil on the head, running down on the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down on the collar of his robes! It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion! For there the Lord has commanded the blessing, life forevermore.

Psalm 133


I just went on a hike with my best friend. It is June in Phoenix, but the weather was astonishing. It was breezy and warm, but not hot. The sky was spilling over with clouds and everything looked fresher than normal.

We seriously just walked around in the desert for two hours.

Looking back, it seems very significant that our lives are lived in the desert. Hiking over rocks and down into little ditches; curving around cacti and in between mountains always reminds me that life is dirty and hot and exhausting...

But the time we spend in the desert is full of beauty. We connect, we respond, we pray, we live.

And when the weight of the burdens we carry becomes too much, we have someone to sit in the dirt with us until we find the peace that comes from the Spirit of God.

I am so very thankful for the joy that has come from Tassie and Mike and the boys coming home. I feel like God is using them to complete the vision of community that has been building in us for the last few years.

This is a family that we live life with. We play with them, we search the heart of God with them, we are encouraged by them and we are seeing them almost every day.

We are in all in the desert right now. Things are prickly and the enemy is constant and clever.

What joy that we are traveling together! What peace that we are not alone! What hope that we are pressing onward!

The last few weeks have been strange and heavy; I have personally been battling and have been very fearful of what lies around the next corner. This morning I feel like that fear has lifted; like I am free-er.

This is the intended purpose of community; this is God's beautiful plan. We are moistened by the love of the Lord when we stand together; when we lift the crushing weight of one another's burdens. We are anointed by the oil of God's purposes when we search for the Word of God together.

This is where we find life; this is where life is fully lived.

Hallelujah!!!

So, as I write this, I pray for this powerful joy of the Lord to be your own; for the deliverance and healing of your own hearts. I pray for your community to be a safe and strong place. I pray for your hearts to belong to the Living God and for your lives to be lived in the village of his Kingdom.

Grace and nothing but pure and radiant grace to you all....

The Vision...

If you haven't heard The Vision by Pete Greig yet...

So this guy comes up to me and says, “What’s the vision? What’s the big idea?” I open my mouth, and the words come out like this…

The vision?

The vision is Jesus:

obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.

The vision is an army of young people.

You see bones?

I see an army.

And they are free from materialism–

they laugh at 9-5 little prisons. They could

eat caviar on Monday and crust on Tuesday

They wouldn’t even notice. They know the

meaning of the Matrix.

the way the West was won.

They are mobile like the wind,

they belong to the nations,

they need no passport.

People write their addresses in pencil

and wonder at their strange existence.

They are free

yet they are slaves

of the hurting and dirty and dying.

What is the vision? The vision is holiness

that hurts the eyes.

It makes children laugh and adults angry.

It gave up the game of minimum integrity

Long ago to reach for the stars.

It scorns the good and strains for the best.

It is dangerously pure.

Light flickers

from every secret motive,

every private conversation.

It loves people away from their suicide leaps,

their Satan games.

This is an army

that would lay down its life for the cause.

A million times a day

Its soldiers choose to lose that they might

one day win the great

“Well done” of faithful sons and daughters.

Such heroes are as radical

on Monday morning as Sunday night.

They don’t need fame from names.

Instead they grin quietly upwards

and hear the crowds chanting again and again:

“COME ON!”

And this is the sound of the

underground, the whisper of history

in the making, foundation shaking,

revolutionaries dreaming once again.

Mystery is scheming in whispers,

conspiracy is breathing…This is the

sound of the underground

And the army is disciplined–

young people who beat their bodies into

submission. Every soldier would take a

bullet for his comrade at arms.

The tattoo on their back boasts

“for me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

Sacrifice fuels the fire

of victory in their upward eyes.

Winners.

Martyrs.

Who can stop them? Can hormones hold

them back? Can failure succeed?

Can fear scare them or death kill them?

And the generation prays

Like a dying man with groans beyond

talking, with warrior cries,

sulphuric tears and

great barrow loads of laughter!

Waiting.

Watching:

24-7-365.

Whatever it takes they will give:

Breaking the rules,

shaking mediocrity from its cozy little

hide,

laying down their rights and their precious

little wrongs,

laughing at labels,

fasting essentials.

The advertisers cannot mold them.

Hollywood cannot hold them.

Peer-pressure is powerless

to shake their resolve

at late-night parties

before the cockerel cries.

They are incredibly cool,

dangerously attractive (on the inside).

On the outside? They hardly care!

They wear clothes like costumes:

to communicate and celebrate

but never to hide.

Would they surrender their image or their

popularity? They would lay down their

very lives, swap seats with the man on

death row, guilty as hell:

a throne for an electric chair.

With blood and sweat and many tears,

with sleepless nights and fruitless

days,

they pray as if it all depends on God

and live as if it all depends on them.

Their DNA chooses Jesus

(He breathes out, they breathe in).

Their subconscious sings.

They had a blood transfusion with

Jesus.

Their words make demons scream

in shopping malls. Don’t you hear

them coming?

Herald the weirdos!

Summon the losers and the freaks.

Here come the frightened and

forgotten

with fire in their eyes!

They walk tall and trees applaud,

skyscrapers bow,

mountains are dwarfed

by these children of another

dimension.

Their prayers summon the Hound of

Heaven and invoke the ancient dream

of Eden.

And this vision will be.

It will come to pass;

it will come easily;

it will come soon.

How do i know?

Because this is the longing of creation

itself, the groaning of the Spirit,

the very dream of God.

My tomorrow is His today.

My distant hope is His 3-D.

And my feeble,

whispered,

faithless prayer

invokes a thunderous,

resounding,

bone-shaking

great “Amen!”

from countless angels,

from heroes of the faith,

from Christ Himself.

And he is the original dreamer,

the ultimate winner.

Guaranteed.

Aravis

So... community.

Community is constantly on my mind lately.


I've been inspired by a message I heard on a podcast about Lamentations. The man speaking was repeating the line, "Who can heal us?" from that particular book.

My 4 year old daughter responded every time with a firm nod of her wild, blond head and a determined, "God."

Pure and simple.

Cut and dry.

No questions and no need for explanation.

Do you know why she knows this?

She knows that only God can heal us because she is so surrounded by men and women and children that breathe out the pure and familiar reality of Yeshua of Nazareth with every exhale.

Her entire view of hope and life and functioning are being shaped by the village that is raising her.

She is told she is smart and beautiful and funny every day of her life. She is held and soothed and made valuable by more people than I can count. Grown ups look into her eyes and listen to her thoughts and ideas without mocking her or making her feel foolish.

She is watching the women who fill her life and learning how to be a woman. She is learning patience and truth and beauty. She is learning strength and humility and powerful love.

She is watching the men in her life and learning how a woman should be treated. She is learning value and honor and protection. She is learning to love without hindrance.

Aravis is beginning to live up to her name.

Her name is taken from the C.S. Lewis book, The Horse and His Boy. Aravis means "One who walks with the Lion."

The Lion is Aslan. Jesus.

Aravis has no doubt in her mind that God alone can heal us. She has no idea, at this point in her life, that anyone would believe any differently. She only knows what her community has taught her.

She only knows that Jesus is the only Way.

She walks with God because the people who are shaping her walk with God.

And I am so, so thankful for the people who make up our community.

I am thankful for the way my children are loved and protected.

I am thankful for the people who have carried us to the feet of Jesus.

I am thankful for the people who have stuck by us when we were falling apart.

I am thankful for the joy that now overwhelms us.

With a giant, loud, relinquishing exhale I can only say,

"Thank you..."

Balance

I

Need

Balance.

I come back to this over and over and over again.

Last year, around this time, I became so aware of how OUT of balance I was; physically, spiritually, emotionally.

My entire life was standing on it's tiptoes on a single pole, in the middle of a muddy lake.

One twitch or sneeze and I would lose my balance completely and plunge into the dirty depths.

So, I sought out wholeness and peace in every way I could think of.

I started a raw vegan diet.

I exercised more.

I MADE time to be still and quiet in the presence of the Lord.

I dove into my yoga practice.

I cultivated community.

And, eventually, I found my balance.

I stopped swaying in the slight breeze and found myself sturdy and strong.

Lately, I have noticed myself teetering again.

It's not so extreme this time.

I may have even missed it if I weren't SO aware of my NEED for Jesus right now.

I keep thinking that I need to step back from myself a little bit and reevaluate the way I am living.

I need more rest.

More peace.

More movement.

More worship.

Much more awareness of what I am eating.

Anxiety needs to die.

Pure and simple; it needs to die.

Alisa's class this morning was about anxiety....

Six words... "Do not be anxious about anything..."

That brings it all together.

Balance is about trusting where you are standing; rooted down through your feet and upward lifting.

Balance is a drawing together of all of your energy towards the center of your body.

So, in seeking balance, anxiety only throws me off.

The more I think about GETTING IT RIGHT, the more likely I am to fall flat on my face.

My heart's desire is to be completely, fiercely, overflowingly whole.

Nothing less than that will satisfy.

So, Jesus....

Balance me.

Strip away my striving and weak attempts to BE.

Remind me to lift my toes and root down.

Remind me to surrender to the upward lifting of the Spirit.

Cut the cords of gravity that are tugging on every limb.

Peace. Wholeness. Balance. Free...

Need

It's been about four months of painful, exhausting, hard work for me.

Joe has been out of town for work and only home on the weekends.

That means my day never ends.

And all of my days kind of melt into one very long, very frustrating day.

A four-month-long day.

Usually I make it till about Wednesday before I want to scream and lock myself in a closet.

And, fortunately, I have family who helps to lift the burden.

But there is no substitute for a partner.

And I have been feeling increasingly burdened.

Today is probably the climax of this battle so far.

I am so far past the end of myself I just feel like a big blob of goo.

I woke up so tired I could barely keep my eyes open.

My kids have been crying and fighting all morning.

Every sharp sounds makes me feel like I am going to lose my mind.

My heart was beating so hard inside of my chest I wondered for a minute if there was actually something physically wrong with me.

I even laid down on the floor and thought maybe I should go get a blood test to see why I am so tired all the time.

And then I remembered that I am so tired because I never rest.

There is no break from the chaos.

There is no "sick day" or "mental health day".

There is no other choice.

I just have to get up and do what is mine to do.

My parents took my kids for the morning and I just laid on my yoga mat and tried to crawl my way into Abba's lap.

I cried.

I opened my Bible.

I read words that should have soothed my heart.

Peace.

Jesus said he left peace.

Peace to make us well and whole.

I don't feel well and whole.

So I just cried and trusted that God knew exactly what I was bringing to him.

I took a shower and listened to Rob Bell talk about Sinai.

Fire and voices.

Church and people.

And then I watched my kids from the sidewalk as they ran through the sprinklers in my parent's front yard.

And now they are home, dripping wet and wearing nothing but crocs.

Judah has a stick and Aravis is wearing a headband like an amazon.

They are wild. It's the nature of who they are.

They are adventurous.

They are full of life and a need for peace.

Peace.

Abba's kind of peace.

Peace that stills us when we are a furious storm.

Peace that whispers when we are inwardly screaming.

Peace that strengthens us when we are so incredibly weak.

Peace that makes a way through a wilderness of trouble and loneliness.

Peace.

Peace.

Peace.

Little trickles of peace are filtering down into my soul.

Tiny movements of hope and strength.

One thing I am learning more and more lately:

I need Jesus.

I really, really, really need him.

And my need makes me see things differently.

I'm not so concerned with other people's faults and failures.

I'm not so overwhelmed with things and wants.

My need is too strong.

Something small and fierce in me says that I am blessed.

I am blessed to be alone.

I am blessed to be struggling.

I am blessed to be tired.

I am blessed to be a big blob of goo.

I am blessed because joy comes in the morning.

I am blessed because I am not orphaned; He's coming back for me.

My Abba is, even now, speaking over my life...

"Come away with me, my lovely one, come..."

And, because I am so aware of my need, my little heart can only whisper in response...

"Not my way, Yeshua, but your's...."

Community of Love

I have something I have been wrestling with.

It keeps gnawing away at me.

I think I set it aside and then it springs back up in front of me.

I am unsettled and restless when I try to ignore it.

I find myself meditating on it when I sit to rest.

It wont leave me alone.


I am wrestling with ministry.

Ministry with a catchy name.

Ministry with a bank account.

Ministry with a building.

Ministry with an unswerving focus.

Ministry directed towards people; run by people who love Jesus.

And yet, ministry that crushes people and runs against the grain of The Way.

Before I go any farther let me just say that I have been the "people who love Jesus" and running a ministry.

I have sat underneath a "name" and run the Kingdom of God like it were a business.

I have been desolate and lost and yet still taking a place of judgement and order in other people's lives.

I get it that what I am saying is offensive.

Because I would have been offended.

Since that time in my life I have just wandered around, in and out of "ministry", and I have wrestled with what ministry LOOKS like.

What are we really supposed to be doing?

I get it that Jesus wants us to love people; to take care of people.

Isn't that what community does?

ANY community?

The more I chew on this the more I am drawn in, not to what the church isn't, but to what we are meant to be.

I've seen little glimpses of a powerful community rallying under the banner of Yeshua.

I've seen needs met, bills paid, hearts healed.

I've been on the receiving end of the gift of community.

I've been on the giving end...

Either way, it is life changing.

But I don't understand why the church is run like a business; why people are slipping through the cracks; why needs go unmet because it doesn't fit into a budget; why hearts are broken and left unhealed.

We ARE his body, right?

We ARE his people, right?

And we ALL know that this life is temporary and fading away.

Why are we so fixated on THINGS?

Why are people in our own communities falling away for lack of heart connection?

So, then I heard the christian voice in my head ask, "well, if people really set aside their 'ministries' to focus on their families, would all the needs of the people around them really be met?"

Hell yes.

Because if a woman is truly loved by her husband and he makes her first, she then is free to love her children and make them first.

Her children then are free to love each other and the people around them. They learn healthy love and not a distorted love.

This one little family becomes a shelter of joy and peace.

And people are drawn to joy and peace.

If we stop battling to take away the right for homosexuals to get married and start learning to love them and draw them in, they are then free to learn the power of real love.

If we stop judging and trying to "fix" everyone we know and make it our priority to love them, even as they are, they learn the power of grace and relentless love.

If we draw boundaries against sin and we all hold each other to the heart of the Father without trying to control one another, we ALL learn the radiating, earth shattering exploding song of real love.

So, the problem with ministry is that it is limited.

Money and budgets limit us.

Names and people groups limit us.

Community, full and strong and free from striving, frees us.

Love creates love.

Love grows.

Love expands.

If the bride of Christ were clinging to the hem of his garment, instead of sitting off to the side thinking of how to best "serve" she would be a free woman.

So, I'll go to church because I love my community who also attends.

I genuinely love to sit next to my husband and friends and listen to Dave talk about Jesus.

Mostly because Dave is a nomad.

His heart is for the power of God's community, not for the success of a church.

He and Brittany wander around, pouring love that grows into communities and broken hearts.

They see the people who are lost and broken.

God has been teaching me to let go of what the church is NOT lately.

It is a painful ripping of my sense of justice.

I want to defend the people who are wronged by the business end of church.

I want to rise up a different camp to oppose the wrongdoer.

But that's not Jesus either.

Jesus didn't worry about making a new camp.

He didn't start all over and make a "new" Bride of Christ.

He made the old ones new again.

He breaks away our opposition and pride to set us on a throne of hope.

So, thank God for community!

Thank God for people who will join in and live life with us!

Thank God for real love that cannot be contained in just me; in just my family; in just my little community.

Organic community has no choice but to grow because love is the seed.

Leaving

There are different kinds of leaving.

There is the kind of leaving that has defined most of my marriage:

An emotional abandonment; a mental disconnection.

I was invisible and was never important enough; sane enough; strong enough.

I wasn't like other wives.

I wasn't like other women.

And other women were in my husband's head.

Which means he was always leaving me.

Every second; every minute; every hour, his heart was traveling farther and farther away from me.

And then there is the physical act of leaving.

Last January, almost exactly 4 months ago, my husband physically left.

We mutually agreed.

But I have never in my entire life felt pain and panic like I did then.

I have never lost my breath so suddenly and so fully.

I have never felt the weight of a full blown panic attack like I did when he actually packed his clothes and shut the door behind him.

In both of those experiences I constantly grieved for who he was NOT.

I ached for godliness to strike his soul; for purity to cleanse his heart; for a full and total connection to save us.

Today I experienced a completely new kind of leaving.

After 3 months of working out of town during the week and only being home on weekends, Joe FINALLY finished the job from hell.

He came home and a weight lifted off me, off of him, off of our kids and community.

We celebrated.

We broke bread with our close friends and I let my heart relax.

I let go of the burden of being a single mommy, of missing my husband, and of even resenting him for being gone so much.

The next morning Joe found out his next job was another out-of-town job.

Not only that, but he is also going to be gone for 2 1/2 weeks straight through.

My heart FELL.

And it's been just laying there on the ground since then.

I am constantly crying (have you ever tried to sweep the floor and cry at the same time? It doesn't work very well).

I am sad.

Sad.

Sad.

But yesterday was mother's day.

Joe secretly stayed up all night cleaning out the garage for me so I could finally park the car in there (and since we don't have working AC in the car, this was a GOOD thing!).

He also fixed an old rocking chair that I have been hoping to put in Judah's room.

He cleaned the house.

He organized a mother's day brunch with our families.

He didn't let me do ANYTHING.

He and the kids made me breakfast in bed.

He cleaned up after everyone had gone home.

And then he rubbed my back till I fell asleep.

And all of this did more than give me a good mother's day.

He kneaded away at my hurt and sadness with his tireless love.

He kept offering me rest when I was feeling frantic and hopeless.

My husband became Jesus to me for the first time in our marriage.

He set himself aside and held me before God with a relentless love.

So, when he left today I felt a new kind of leaving.

A leaving that left me aching, not because of who he is NOT, but because of who he IS.

This is the saddest, most full and overflowing kind of leaving.

This is a leaving that leaves me more in love; more cared for; more safe and protected than I have ever been in my life.

I'll probably just cry for 2 1/2 weeks.

But it will be worth it.

He has made it worth it.

New Update!

Mike and Tassie will be returning home on Monday the 11th! They are weary, sick and dragging, but they are coming home and we cant wait to embrace them!

Tassie is slowly recovering, but not as quickly as they had hoped. She is weak and dizzy. The benadryl she was taking to keep the allergic reaction at bay was making her heart feel like it was going to stop so she stopped taking it.

Within hours of sending out that email we had so many people respond! As of right now we are estimating that people are collectively giving well over $3000 for Mike and Tassie to pay their hospital bill, settle things in Gales Point, and come home to rest and heal! How awesome would it be to be able to drown them in blessing?!

People, you ROCK! I am so proud to be a part of Jesus' community right now! I am beautifully amazed at the response of LOVE for a family that a lot of you have never even met! Some of you have NOTHING and yet are giving anyway! Some of you have an abundance and are letting your overflow flood the lives of the faithful! Some of you have been looking for a need to meet and were so Divinely led to thePhifers!

What a HOLY community serving a HOLY God!

Mike and Tassie need lots and lots of prayer! Pray that they will be so sustained for the next few days! Pray that they will be overwhelmed with peace and rest and strength while they are still in Belize, wrapping up their lives in Gales Point. Pray for an absence of trouble and for an outpouring of joy! Pray that they will be healthy and whole as they finish what they started. Pray that they will come home to a place of total and complete rest.

I have recieved a few emails from Tassie and Mike and they want you all to know that they are so blessed, so powerfully overcome by your generosity. They are blessed by the community of people they didn't know they had. They wanted me to tell you THANK YOU.

I'm including a part of Tassie's last email so that you can hear her own heart as she is in this space of waiting.

"I am excited for yoga. I can’t believe the community God has created in that group. God is so awesome. I have been sitting here in this apartment for so long I can’t wait to move even if it is to sit in child’s pose and bawl in his presence. I feel so grateful to be alive and transformed! I am so thankful to have suffered and experienced him in my greatest weakness. I am so thankful to have seen the power of His provision and the greatness of his love. My friend here, Mandy, calls me Job. I know I am not even close, but I am learning to be patient in affliction and grateful for each day I am given. I am so thankful that God is using me in that way. That in any suffering I do I might be a blessing to other people and to my Father! Who is this God? How is His love so complete and full? How can he see my needs and be compelled to fulfill them. Surely He is the great I AM!

I started reading Ruthless Trust and I love that God has started and ended our time here with me reading this book. It has been such a blessing to me. The last chapter I read was about really living in the present with God. Not looking back and not being transfixed on the future but being willing to meet him in the now. And to be thankful for the now. To know that he is my provider. That he is my friend, my father, my love, and my life. I can trust him in the face of death. I can trust him with my husband and sons. I can trust him to transform the community of Gales Point without any help from me. HE IS. He will complete the work that he starts."

Be blessed every one of you! You are the evidence of God's love and mercy in a dark world.

BE FREE!
Stephanie and Alisa

Update!

Ok, so I talked to Tassie's sister Brittany this morning and also talked to Mike on FB chat.

Tassie has both a massive allergic reaction and scarlet fever.

They are releasing her from the hospital today and then she needs to stay in the city for 5 days to be monitored.

Mike said that they are all so exhausted and stressed. They will be in Belize for probably another 2 weeks and then will be coming home.

They need to say goodbye to everyone in the village before they leave and he knows that she would never agree to leaving without him.

Within hours of sending out that email we had so many people respond! As of right now we are estimating that people are collectively giving well over $2000 for Mike and Tassie to pay their hospital bill and come home to rest and heal! It hasn't even been 24 hours yet!

People, you ROCK! I am so proud to be a part of Jesus' community right now! I am beautifully amazed at the response of LOVE for a family that a lot of you have never even met! Some of you have NOTHING and yet are giving anyway! Some of you have an abundance and are letting your overflow flood the lives of the faithful! Some of you have been looking for a need to meet and were so Divinely led to the Phifers!

What a HOLY community serving a HOLY God!

Mike and Tassie need lots and lots of prayer! Pray that they will be so sustained for the next 2 weeks! Pray that they will be overwhelmed with peace and rest and strength while they are still in Belize, wrapping up their lives in Gales Point. Pray for an absence of trouble and for an outpouring of joy! Pray that they will be healthy and whole as they finish what they started. Pray that they will come home to a place of total and complete rest.

Be blessed every one of you! You are the evidence of God's love and mercy in a dark world.

The Power of Community

Most of you know Tassie Phifer from Holy Yoga or church. She and her husband Mike and 2 little boys, Luke and Isaiah have been in Belize since last summer serving in a small village called Gales Point.

Tassie has been sick since December with different things. It has been a challenge, to say the least, to faithfully serve while battling the physical limitations of just being sick.

Recently she has had several outbreaks of boils. At one point she had a few removed. She mentioned that she thought she might be getting boils because of a candida issue (from being on so many antibiotics). It has been discouraging and very, very painful, but her genuine and surrendered heart has been so inspirational.

Tassie is a strong and powerful woman. She has endured under intense heartbreak and, now under intense physical pressure. All of her emails to me have been beautiful, sincere, and overflowing with depth that comes only from learning that we NEED Jesus.

A few days ago, Tassie had a severe allergic reaction to something that she came in contact with. She broke out in hives on almost her entire body. She tried benadryl and zyrtec, but they didn't help. Mike took her to a doctor and the doctor suggested Tassie be admitted to the hospital.

This is her 2nd night in the hospital. She is doing much better (they have been giving her medicine through an iv and that seems to be helping her to recover quickly). It has cost Mike and Tassie at least $1000 for her to be in the hospital.
This is a huge strain on them financially.

They were already set to return on May 30th and are now trying to get home sooner, as Tassie is just so unhealthy.

As we have talked and prayed for Mike,Tassie and the boys, this is our heart's cry - can we as a community, as the body of Christ, lift that burden from them? Can we help shoulder the load to bring them home without the weight of that $1000 hanging over them? We know that if we all gave just a little, it would grow into a beautiful gift that would bless them.

If your heart is stirred on their behalf, all we ask is that you pray over what you could give. Money is a hard thing to ask of people these days, so we write you this letter with full hearts, knowing that God will make a way for Mike and Tassie and Luke and Isaiah no matter what. What an outpouring of joy it would be for us all to be a part of that. So, give a little, give a lot, give prayer, give emails of encouragement - whatever you are drawn to.

Our hope is that Mike and Tassie will come home to heal and will be blown away by the outpouring of love from the people who bear the name of Jesus. May we ALL be blown away by the power of community.

Grace and nothing but grace to you all,

Alisa and Stephanie


If you are led to send them a check, please make the check out to Living Streams Church and send it to Living Streams Church, 7000 N. Central Ave. Phoenix, Arizona 85020. Please don't actually write Mike and Tassie's names on the check, but include a note specifying that this gift is for Mike and Tassie Phifer. If you give through Living Streams your donation will be tax deductable.

Intention

I am learning to love intentionally.

There is a song that says, "Love is easy when you're loved. But do you curse another when you're alone?"

Ah yes.

This is the struggle.

This is the heart cry of every human being that was, is, and is yet to be.

We love when we are loved.

When we are NOT loved, we cease to love.

Something new is introduced to our sweet, fragile love.

Hurt.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Loneliness.

Sadness.

Soul hunger.

Love is not as simple as it should have been.

What once was glorious and blossoming is now wilted around the edges.

It is only natural to react.

Generally our response is to shrink back; to draw inward and protect our now battered hearts.

Now, this scenario I have learned to surrender to Jesus through.

After a lifetime of pulling back and defending myself, I have learned (in most cases) to love anyway.

And I have learned that love is not weak.

Love is the strongest hero of all time.

Love sees the outpouring of hurt and rejection and lifts us up over it.

Love never lets us drown.

Love keeps us dry and secure in the fury of any storm.

Love benefits me us much as it benefits the person we choose to love.

But here is where I am still wrestling: When I am tired and worn out I don't want to love anymore.

When I am at the end of myself, I really just want to be left alone.

I hate expectations and demands.

And I am the mother of two small, demanding, expecting children.

I do not have the luxury of pulling the covers up over my head and fading out the world for a day.

When I am tired, I am still a mommy.

When I have nothing left to give, I still have to find a way to give.

And early this week I felt myself sinking down into a little hole.

I was irritated and frustrated.

I just wanted to be left alone.

So, laying on the floor in a Holy Yoga class, I made a choice.

I choose to make love my intention.

For just that day, I was going to choose to love first and love often.

Whatever that looked like - I was going to make sure that my kids were loved that day.

I made this decision knowing that my house would probably be trashed by the end of my experiment.

And, if you know me, you know that this was a big sacrifice to make.

But I love my kids more than I love my need for order.

Now, at the end of the week, my kids are so overflowing with love; I am overflowing with energy and joy; and my house is spotless.

I had expected this week to be hard and painful.

But Jesus, in his incredible mercy, has restored ME and filled me in an unimaginable way.

Love is our choice.

If we only love the lovable, our love never has to grow and it stays small and frail.

Loving the difficult, the demanding, and unreasonable stretches our capacity to love.

We grow stronger and deeper.

We come alive.

We are filled.

My daughter ends every story not with "the end", but with "and then".

The story never ends.

There is always a new page to fill; a new character to rise up; a new adventure to ignite our hearts.

Love is our story.

Love is our beginning and it has no end.

It fills the pages of our hearts and inspires us to be more; to reach higher.

Love.

And then...

Reminders

I am visiting my oldest friend, Nicole, in California this weekend.

We've been friends for 15 years and don't see each other as much as I'd like.

This is what I love about being with Nicole:

We never have to explain anything.

We've been friends for so long and with such intensity, that we can connect in a breath.

When we were younger we would cry over our tormented lives together. We were incredibly melodramatic and obsessed with anything heartbreaking.

Although we were weird, we were also incredibly sensitive and in tune with what is Spiritual.

Our experience of God and life was beautifully woven.

Since then we have both experienced painful and debilitating things.

And when we are together, and we remember who we have been and what has led us to this more fearful existence, something loosens.

The tight grip I have on my life is almost powerless...

Because I connect to the freedom I once had to just BE.

She is my altar of what was.

Her presence reminds me of who I have been and of who I wanted to be.

I am thankful for the chance to look back and let the memories affect me again.

I am thankful for the chance to look back and be so thankful for the decisions that I DIDN'T make; boyfriends I didn't marry; places I didn't go.

We are who we are.

All of us.

Our lives are always full of turns and upheavals.

Hopefully, we all have someone who has seen the weird, melodramatic versions of ourselves, and can still connect to the heart underneath that teenage angst.

This is the power of an altar; of a remembrance.

There is freedom in being reminded of who we have been and of what has led us to who we are now.

It is like taking a full breath; feeling the fullness of your lungs and holding it there for a moment.

Just being in a space of expansion and bursting for as long as you can hold it.

And then exhaling.

That breath rushes away and it is gone forever.

There is freedom in your exhale; in emptying your lungs.

This weekend is a purging breath for me.

I am full to overflowing of memory; of reflection.

When I go home I will exhale and the poignancy of my remembrance will rush from my lungs.

And I will be cleansed by this full breath.

I will be more centered.

I will be more connected.

I will be more truthful.

And I will be reminded to stop and breath through my memories more often.

I will be reminded to be thankful for what has carried me here.

Jesus.

Jesus.

Jesus.

Jesus.

I Am Peter

I'm standing on fountains and waves of moments.

Beneath my feet is a sheet of glass.

The world is so transparent and clear...

I can see through it.

And that is what is frightening.

This ocean of life is trembling underneath me.

And, though clear, it is deep.

Though I stand over it,

It rises up under me.

Dark skies sit on top of me.

Wind, like a hurricane, beats against me from every side.

Fear, like a beast, grips my throat.

I choke on my humanity.

I cannot take one more step.

I cannot face the consequences of slipping through the sheet of glass.

The clear water below laps over my feet and asks for my life.

Who I have been, Who I am, dances and glides through the depths below.

My blood rushes through my veins like the hurricane over my body.

All I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears.

And then You whisper.

It's not that the wind grows silent or my fear dormant.

It's just that you whisper.

As you have been whispering.

It's the wind that carries your voice into my soul.

The sound is sweet and the words are tender,

"Your faith is fragile...."

"Don't you know who I Am yet?"

And then it seems silly that I am frightened by the massive ocean of life beneath me.

It seems small that I am bullied by the wind.

When this is actually nothing for you.

Why shouldn't the One who formed every drop of water command it to be firm beneath my feet?

Storm or no storm, I stand.

On a sheet of glass or thick concrete, I walk.

Blinded by tears or embraced by glory, I live.

Strong or weak, I breath.

I breath.

It's All Connected

This morning I woke up and forced myself to practice yoga.

I've had horrible allergies all week and anything physical has been torture, but i was determined to connect today.

Part of my lack of energy is coming from my disconnection to God and to my own breath.

So, I plopped down on a mat in the yoga room with my Bible and randomly selected a verse to meditate on.

But there is nothing random in the Spirit of God.

Isaiah 32:17

"The fruit of righteousness will be peace;
the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever."

I felt fragmented and disconnected through my entire practice and even since then.

But when I had finished I looked up the Hebrew definitions.

"The work that creates the right way will be wholeness; the labor and task of the right way will be rest, silence, calmness, safety and security."


And I've been chewing on those words all day. They keep rolling around in my head; striking at the little pieces of my existence. Everything that is fragmented in me has been pulling on the hope of wholeness.

About an hour ago I was in the backyard cleaning up dog poop (cause that's life people).

I was suddenly aware of how beautiful the day was.

So, I set aside my hard work and grabbed my mat.

I unrolled it on the patio by the pool and I practiced.

No, I mean I really practiced.

My mind connected to my body; my body connected to my breath; my breath connected to my spirit.

My heart opened towards the warmth of the sun and I was overwhelmed by the vastness and beauty of creation.

Have you ever noticed how huge and open the sky is?

No, have you ever stopped to look at it?

Have you ever been so caught up in the power and ability of the One who actually formed the sky; sculpted every tree; breathed into the clouds sweeping the sky; built the mountains with a Word; and placed us - small, and tiny, and fragile - in the very midst of it?

It was in this beautiful and surrendered moment that I caught the depth of Isaiah's words.

The way to wholeness and rest and silence and calmness and safety and security is the Right Way; THE WAY.

The Right Way is God's Way.

And the way to doing the right thing; to being connected to God, is in wholeness, rest, silence, calmness, safety and security.

This is utter dependence.

This is us - human, fragmented and disconnected.

This is a choice.

This is sitting still instead of rushing around.

This is meditating on the Word of God; waiting for the breeze of His response to awaken our dry and broken hearts.

This is simply breathing.

And breathing to the glory of God.

THIS is our work - to choose the Right Way; to allow ourselves to be humbled and corrected; to choose others over ourselves; to choose love over self defense; to choose hope over despair; to look into the eyes of the forgotten and despised with mercy and an outpouring of acceptance.

This is our challenge - let's be still and calm.

Let's pursue nothing short of wholeness.

Let's make our life's work the Right Way.

And let's all do it together; connected.

Mind to Body.

Body to Breath.

Breath to Spirit.

I Am Weak

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9



I am weak.

It's just who I am.

I am weak in a lot of ways.

I am physically weak.

I hate to run (although when I was younger I LOVED to run).

I hate to sweat, so I despise physical activity in the summer (or in Alisa's holy yoga classes - I have no idea WHY she likes to make the room a sauna).

I don't like moving the furniture around when it's time for a change.

It's too much pushing and pulling.

I would rather sit and meditate.

I would rather sleep.

I am also emotionally weak.

I am frail.

I'm this tiny little whisper of a breath.

One little push and I'm over the edge.

I feel things in the very depths of my soul.

I will mourn and tangle myself up over any loss, on any level - even if it is not my own.

But this is why I am strong:

I will do it anyway.

I force myself to keep moving because it is good for me.

I move the furniture when I am the only one here because it has to be done.

And when I am grieving and tormented I will look my sorrow in the face and let it come.

I am very, very emotional.

Most women are.

And I am glad for it.

I'm glad that I can be so easily tripped.

It reminds me that I am still pressing my feet into the earth.

I am human, and alive, and breathing, and full of soul.

I am glad that I make myself push my body.

It reminds me to honor the life that God has created in me.

I am glad that I am weak.

It means that I can never propel myself into holiness.

It means that I can never be my own god.

And it means that I will never have to bear the weight of my humanity.

So this is my heart's cry:

Find your weakness! Celebrate it.

Surrender it.

Find joy in conquering it to the glory of God.

Be glad that we are weak.

And that He is strong.

Be glad that his invitation is to the weak and to the thirsty.

"Come."

"Drink."

"Be filled."

We Know The Way

This morning my daughter went next door to my parent's house for breakfast and I sat out on the front porch with my 14 month old son, Judah.

We ate breakfast.

We marveled over the neighborhood cat strolling past our yard.

We laughed.

He chattered away in his baby language.

I was completely overwhelmed with the beauty of the moment.

The weather was perfect and fresh.

There were sounds of life everywhere.

It was so simple and so serene.

I was, again, reminded to just BE.

So, as it is now my "mantra", I leaned my head back and whispered, "not my way, God, but your's."

I am full to bursting with joy.

With love.

Love is everywhere.

It's like winter disappeared in the middle of the night and springtime is suddenly everywhere.

It is powerfully real.

And then my little man stood up from his little chair, waved his pudgy hand at me and said, "ba" (which means "bye").

He set off down the sidewalk towards the street and I stood up to follow him.

I was curious to see if he knew where he was going.

He would walk a few steps and stop to turn and look at me, as if he were thinking, "why are you following me? I said bye."

I followed him all the way down the sidewalk and across the prickly grass in my parent's front yard.

He walked straight to their front door and looked up at me as if to say, "Well? Are you going to open the door or what?"

This may sound like just a silly little story, but it was actually very moving to me.

Judah knew the way.

Somehow, he knew the way to his grandparent's house.

He wasn't afraid of leaving me behind or of being alone on his little journey.

He just knew that he was headed to a place where he is loved.

He must have thought of them and immediately set out.

It didn't occur to him to wait, or to ask, or to be afraid.

Judah knew what path would take him to love and he just took it.

How often in my life have I thought of the One who loved me and let fear or uncertainty keep me from running into His arms?

The Way is so simple.

It's not complicated.

But I don't always follow my heart's first instinct - to just wave goodbye and place my feet on the sidewalk that will lead me there.

Because I am so surrounded by love right now, it humbles me to wonder how long this joy has been available to me.

If I were more like Judah I may have found my way to love before now.

So, today, I am going to be like my little Judah.

Today, I'm just going to go where love leads me.

I'm going to let it pull on my heart and draw me straight into peace and hope.

I'm going to go where I'm loved.