For the One

Well, I don't know where to start....I suppose I could start with the fact that I spent the last month and half here:

The Republic of Kiribati (which I'd really never heard of until I found out I was going there), also known as the Line Islands, are a small group Islands in the South Pacific and, as you can see, they are extremely beautiful.

These were taken in Kiritimati Island, our first stop.  The people are quiet and a little shy, but we were able to make some good friends before we left...like this girl:

Her name is Ariel, and we played music together.  She tried to teach me to dance, but I'm pretty bad the whole hip thing.  She, however, can break it down.  

One of the ways we were welcomed into a village was by the locals having a giant potluck.  Those are coconuts:  You have to pay five bucks for one in Fiji...

But here, you can just do this:

...But don't look down...

Trust me...I know...

Next we got onto our boat and sailed over to Fanning Island.  We really felt led as a team to be there. 

 This is Captain Ann, and our friend Kasawa.  He is a very friendly and charming gentleman who, unfortunately, had to have his leg amputated.  So we brought him some books because he loves to read.  

Most of our ministry involved playing with kids.  We put on countless kid's clubs, sang songs, and played games.  

This is my special friend that the Lord blessed me with.  He brought us together for such a time as this, and I have been forever changed by her.  The day we arrived on Fanning Island, she lost a child in a tragic accident and two of my teammates were present during the incident.  I knew in my heart someone was grieving and I wanted to find them...and...hug them or something.  Two days later I met Beneti, and learned who she was.  She teaches English at the secondary school, and we became fast friends.  I taught her English classes whenever I could so that she wouldn't have to.  I'm not sure teachers in Kiribati are allowed bereavement leave.  I felt honored and humbled to be used by the Lord in this way; that He would take me thousands of miles out of my way because of His love for one person.  Because of His breaking heart for one person.  It expanded my understanding of His love for me.

I learned that I don't want to be a teacher...Baneti does it much better than I do.

 Things I learned:

 God moves and speaks quietly.

The human experience is pretty much the same for everyone regardless of who you are or where you live.

 

And my God sees the individual.  He sees the one.  

I want to thank everyone who supported me on this adventure.  It was life changing and healing for me and so many others.  Thank you.

YWAM Ships Outreach Travel Ministry Mercy Jesus Friendship Islands Friendship Relationships God 

Is it a Video Game Now?

There is a phrase floating around the Christian church lately that I would like to discuss.  Or maybe it's an idea.  If so, it's a poorly thought out idea.  It's the idea of "Levels of freedom."  I hear it tossed around in charismatic circles, from pulpits, and at camps.  "We are gonna lead you into new levels of freedom."

The idea behind this phrase is that you are removing things in your life that are negative and holding you back from your full potential in Christ.  In other words, let go of your bitterness, your addictions, your fears, your shame etc etc...and you will be closer to God.  You will feel Him more and experience greater power in your walk with Him.

At first, this sounds lovely.  Who doesn't want to have power, and be on high "level" and live in close proximity to their savior?

I see a problem.  Or several.

The first is that by flippantly throwing out a phrase like the one above, you automatically create a hierarchy in the Christian faith.  People instantly feel that certain people in authority or in the spotlight have achieved a "higher level" than you.  It also provides a giant stumbling block for believers experiencing freedom to also experience pride.  It gives them the subconscious opinion that they are closer to God than other people.

I've totally fallen into that trap.  I experienced freedom from fear five years ago.  Three years later I had a massive pride issue that stemmed directly from that instance of "gaining a new level of freedom."

Another thing that doesn't work with this principal is that not all people have had the same experiences. A person who grew up in a happy loving home may be walking in forgiveness.  But what about the person who grew up in an abusive household?  What if forgiveness for them means pushing past the old and new wounds every single morning and begging God to let them forgive so they can have "freedom" so they can stop hurting for a second?  What makes a drug addiction worse than a coffee addiction?  And if you just read that and want to now give up coffee you missed the point.  And you'll just find another way to cope because life is hard no matter what.

I would propose to you that freedom is fluid.  It has nothing to do with "levels."  I would propose to you that based on peoples unique experiences, by inadvertently creating a hierarchy in the christian faith we do damage to people who feel they cannot get to the "next level" spiritually.

I see it in my mind as this lush green hill with big steps up to the top.  Each step is labelled.  Forgiveness, Fear, Addiction, blah blah blah...you get it.  And Jesus is at the top.  Each person is at the bottom, working their way up.  The people at the bottom level look admiringly up at the people on the next level while the people on the next level look down and smile condescendingly at the others.  "Here brother, let me give you a hand."

Do you see how this is rubbish??

Because in reality there's not a hill at all.  There's not even a road to say you're farther along.  It's a maze of jumbled up different life paths creating a giant knot of crisscrossing lives.  One person might be crawling through the muck weeping, while Jesus stops them for a minute to hold them and tell them to keep going because He's right there.  Someone else could be having a great day.  Everyone is happy and healthy and they're making loads of dough and it's all good yo.  And Jesus is right there.  Rejoicing because His child is happy.

So what's your story?  Are you hungry?  Are you afraid?  Are you grieving?  Are you feeling immeasurable amounts of joy?  Do you feel shame?  Perhaps you found freedom by being able to forgive.  But then you got hurt again and you're wrestling once again.

Christians.  I implore you think before you speak, especially if you are in the pulpit.  Think about what you are training other people to think and say.

No two people are the same.  So don't look down on a person who is struggling.  And don't compare yourself to the one with joy.

Focus on the fact that He's there.  Right now.  No matter what.  Life is hard.  If you love Him, you are free and free indeed.  No levels included.


Freedom YWAM Levels Missions Challenge Christians THINK LOVE Believe Judgment Jesus Faith

Of a Skeleton in My Closet

I've never talked about this.

Some people's high school experiences are full of proms and school and friends.  I praise my parents that they made an effort to give me that in spite of the circumstances.

This post is about judgement.

She moved in when I was thirteen.  A witty, generous, beautiful woman, with brown hair that went to her waist and crystal clear blue eyes.  The light kind.  The kind that laughed.  But she was sick.  

And for awhile it was fine.  But then it really wasn't.  

Oh how I judged her.  How I saw her flaws.  We took such good care of her, how could she hide herself in her room and cry all the time.  Didn't she want to be with her family?  Why was she so ungreatful?

Now, looking back, I remember her giving money to the homeless without fail.  Now I remember her style.  Now I think of the things she gave me.  Strength.  Boldness to think differently and live differently.  Where I saw depression then, now, I only remember her love.

Oh how I judged her.  I said she didn't know God.  But this woman prayed deep in her heart and loved powerfully.  

Some people's highschool experiences were full of like and parties and experimentation.  Mine was full of changing adult diapers and spoon feedings.

She was sad all the time.  

"Are you scared?"

Her perfect eyes filled and her lip quivered. 

"Yes."

I held her hand.  What do you say?  How do you say it's gonna be ok when it's not gonna be ok?  That you both know that in a few short months she'll be gone.

Her fear terrified me.  

I wish I'd known how wrong I was then.  To assume disgratitude for our kindness when in truth it was fear of the end.  How could I have been so insensitive?

You may have thought I didn't talk a lot in highschool.  You might have thought I was awkward and assumed it was cause I was homeschooled.  

I didn't talk or try to be outgoing to new people cause I was busy thinking about the death I was observing take place in the room next to me.  

But I felt your judgement keenly.

As she felt mine.  

This loving, beautiful, brave woman who loved deeply and didn't put up with other people's shit.  This woman who was wounded and frightened.  

I held her hand.  When she couldn't cry anymore.  And she'd chew carrots and spit them out cause her throat didn't work anymore.  Every day I held her hand.  And wept.  I needed to be home to hold her hand.

It happened when I wasn't home.  Having a social life.  I was eighteen.  

Resolutions are for New Years not Thanksgiving.  But I'm making one.  Let me never judge another person's heart.  I will suspend my judgement and try to see how they see, and feel how they feel.

Maybe then I can love how my Grandmother loved.

I Shall Not Want

As of right now I have only $20 towards my outreach fund.  We leave in two weeks.  I need a total of $4800.  

I really like my comfort zone.  I am very intimidated by new circumstances. 

This song is amazing.  Deliver me, Oh God, from all my fears, insecurities, and selfishness.

She is singing my heart.

Of God's Secrets

My family is really big into Christmas traditions, as I'm sure most families are.  We get milkshakes from Big Al's and drive around looking at lights, go to church Christmas Eve, draw names out of a hat for secret santa, and eat a lot of food on Christmas day.

Last year there was some debate amongst the Goddard clan, whether to continue in our tradions or chuck it all and go somewhere exotic the following year.

This is where the story gets interesting and God plays a little game with me.  You see I heard this conversation completely differently than the rest of my family did.

Dad:  "So I work with a guy who has a time share in Fiji and he offered to let us use it for Christmas this year."

Jill:  "What???  And you're telling us now?"

Jessica:  "No!  That would be horrible.  I like our traditions.  Christmas should be cold.  Not islandy."

Me:  "I kinda think it would be awesome.  I just wanna go somewhere outside of the U.S. for once."  Lord, that would be sooo awesome.  I wanna spend Christmas in Fiji next year.  

And so on and so forth went the debate.

Fast forward to September a week or two from my departure...

Jessica:  "Where are you going on outreach?"

Me:  "I don't know.  I mean probably some Islands.  Like Fiji.  Haha maybe I'll spend Christmas in Fiji after all."

Jessica:  "You mean Tahiti?  Dad said Tahiti."

Me:  "....You're totally wrong.  I swear he said Fiji."

Jessica:  "I know he said Tahiti because I'm scared of Fiji and would have thrown a fit."

Me:  "You DID throw a fit.  He said Fiji."

Enter Jillian.

Jessica:  "Jill, did dad say that his coworkers time share was in Fiji or Tahiti?"

Jill:  "Tahiti."

Me:  "WHAT??  There is NO way.  I swear I heard Fiji."

Enter Mark.  Repeat conversation.

Enter Dad.  Confirms that he did indeed say Tahiti.

How could I have gone a whole year thinking he had said Fiji??  What is wrong with me?

Fast forward to the night when our outreach locations are announced.  I knew in my heart Fiji would be one of them.  I was right.  We took ten minutes to pray about it and confirm it.  I remembered the conversation from the year before.  And I knew Fiji was my location.

There were so many people who signed up for the Fiji/ Line Island outreach that they made two teams. One team would start on Christmas Island and the other would start on Fiji, then we would switch.

Guess who is spending Christmas on Fiji?  That's right.  This kid.

I am still needing a lot of support for this portion of the trip.  If you feel led to support me you can give here:http://ywamships.net/give/

Thanks guys!

YWAM Fiji God Missions

Of Once Upon a Time, Grace, Actions, and Hampster Circles

What do you do on a Saturday when you slept wrong and can't turn your head?  You watch three episodes of Once Upon a Time cause you are a nerd and you miss your nerd sisters.  And then you read the book of Jonah, and somehow, weirdly, the two go together.

Once Upon a Time is the most Jesusy show I've seen on TV.  Sometimes they full on quote scripture, (this happened mostly in season one, and I don't remember the scripture, I just remember they quoted it.)  It's all about redemption, second chances, shame, saviors, lies, etc.  Even the evil people have depth as to why they are evil, and the "good" people aren't infallable.  The script and acting are both a bummer.  But the plot is fun.

I watched the Peter Pan episode cause Peter Pan is my favorite, and I was so sad afterwards because they made Peter be a super creepy kidnapper spirit ghostie guy and Captain Hook was kind of less evil than I like him to be.  Ugh.  Also, Wendy?  Maybe if a black spirit/ghost/shadow with glowing silver slits for eyes offers you his hand, probably don't take it...because...why?  That would be dumb.

But that's ok, because, like everyone else in the show you're human, and you get a second chance too.  Only now, the guy I was hoping would be Peter, gets sucked away by creepy ghostie and becomes your sacrifice.

The show in general started to go more karma focused and less redemption focused.  Like one bad deed gets negated by a good one, with the overall message that you redeem yourself.  Rubbish.  But then again I totally live my life that way and so do you.  So does everyone, because we are taught that good actions are rewarded and bad actions require punishment.  But then Jesus says he is love and there is no fear in love because fear involves punishment.  So He doesn't punish us.

This trips my brain out.  Because according to Jesus, we are set free from this mindset.  Good deeds are a good thing, and have good things come from them, but bad deeds go from punishment to natural consequences.  I always try to earn God's love and I always think in the back of my head that I'm going to hell if I don't do all the right things.  But I know that actually I've been redeemed, there is a thing called grace that I do not understand, and that His yoke is easy and His burden is light, and all I have to do is abide.

But then I just used the "do" word again.  Which is an action.  So actions are necessary for salvation?  Because abiding is doing.  Choosing Jesus is an action.  And yet I'm saved by grace not by works.  But what is a work?

And then there's Jonah!  Who gets sacrificed by some sailors to a giant fish so that he's the only one who has to drown.  How rude.  I really like how patient God is with Jonah.  He asks him all kinds of questions.  And Jonah clearly knows God.  Quite well, because he tells God that he knows that he is loving and slow to anger.  Clearly kinda taking advantage of the grace.  And he's not disappointed, God indeed does show grace to him, and to an entire nation.

I don't get it.  But I suppose I don't have to.  Maybe grace is too large a concept for my mind to grasp.  But freedom lies in the graspin of it.  So I'll just keep trying.  Which is still an action.  And then I start all over again!

And then when my brain has run in enough hampster circles, it's time to watch another episode.

Happy Weekend!

Of Wounds

I don’t know why it hurt so much this time around.  It’s happened before.  Maybe because I’ve been through hell and back then shamed for my “actions.”  Maybe because unless you’ve walked through it your thinking is bound to be only one dimensional.  Flat dimensions hurt people because they don’t allow room for understanding and empathy.  

There is, I think, a distinction in the love I have and the lust I was subjected to.  And yet they think one begets the other.  But even if there isn’t a distinction, I don’t think anything but beauty comes from ashes.  Don’t call this pearl trash because of the wound from which it comes.  Maybe they are swine and I shouldn’t have shown them in the first place.    

But anyway, this pain is exponentially worse than before.  In between panic attacks it aches in such a physical way as I’ve never known it to ache.  Like a gaping, bleeding, festering, rawness.  I can’t even describe to you the pain.  But I often hold my hand over it and weep, each pump pushing the tears out in a steady rhythm, as if the pain could be pumped out from my eyes.  Afterwards I’m sore from all the pumping.  And it feels like I ran a race and it is still trying to slow down.  Sometimes after climbing the stairs I need to sit down because this feeling in the physical and emotional combined makes me feel like I might faint.  

I think it’s getting better.  It started with moments.  Moments where I felt normal, not even peaceful, just normal.  Moments when I could smile.  Laughing made me feel like passing out.  And once I started I couldn’t control it and it would take over in hysteria and eventually become tears.

The moments slowly got longer.  Until they became days.  Some days I feel it four or five times for fifteen minutes at a time.  Some days I only feel it once.  Sometimes Jesus kisses me on the cheek and says, “We’re gonna get you healed.”  One time He said, “You need to be gracious with yourself.”  Then I began to be able to see people again.  In between the moments of fear and pain I could start to love again slowly.  

And I realized that sometimes there is peace that passes all understanding, and sometimes I just need to forgive myself for feeling terrible.  I can lay down and not perform and not talk and not be nice and not go to things I’m supposed to because I need to feel like shit for a minute.  I had to let go of the expectations I had for myself, so I could stop being a disappointment to myself.  And then I could realize that I’m not a disappointment to Him.

Then when I just allow myself the grace to feel it, I don’t.  

Of Unity

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who has helped support me on this grand adventure of mine.  I have almost raised all of my tuition funds, which means I get to stay in the program.  Yay!  Thank you all so much.

This week in lecture phase we are learning about worldview.  I have been around the block on this subject, having had lots of and lots of worldview training.  I expected to be a little bored.  False.  I have never heard world view taught in such a fascinating, intelligent, well-rounded, and freeing way.

Our speaker is named Joseph...Something...and he is Armenian.  (Shout out to Marissa and Reaber, you all have the same nose.  Jk.)  He speaks seven languages and has lived all over the world.  He is probably the smartest person I've ever come into contact with and I have the utmost respect for him.

The problem with the worldview classes I've taken in the past is that they are decidedly western.  I compared it to being taught one side of a rubix cube.  Having lived almost everywhere, Joseph is well aquainted with many different cultures and many different worldviews.

When thinking about our worldview we have to understand that the way we see things is largely cultural.  So our view of God is reflective of, and limited to our environment.  Worldview is so much more than answering the questions, which religion is the right one, and what is the proper social order according the gospel.  

Culture is very very very important.  A friend of mine told me that if I encountered someone on my trip who finds God in a coconut, to let them be, and don't burst their bubble by telling them He's not there.  Actually He probably is there, and He loves that person so much He died for them.  So if singing into a coconut connects his/her heart to their creator...swell.  

The beautiful thing about Christianity is that it has been (until recently) trascendant of culture.  You can love Jesus in a way that is culturally revelent to you.  In fact, He put you there, He created your culture and He likes it.  We are losing sight of that kind of thinking and beginning to say that everyone has to do things just like us.  This is incredibly damaging.  

We discussed, also the various splits in church history.  There are so many it's kind of laughable.  We discussed how, in the name of Jesus, tragic atrosities were performed against people and whole people groups.  By saying you are a Christian you carry with that name two thousand years of baggage brought on by the church.  And we wonder why people want nothing to do with Him.   

We are being challenged this week to look at God outside of our cultural lens, and ask Him to reveal to us his true nature.  He is a personal God, He has feelings and emotions and He loves all of His creation so so dearly.  We are being challenged to set aside our theological differences and focus on the things that are close to the heart of God.  

It would be a beautiful marriage of diversity and unity.  What would it look like?  Well, following the words of Jesus.  Laying down your rights, your opinions, your pride, opening your ears, asking for His eyes, and walking in a place of servanthood and love.  It's not about being right.  It's about celebrating differences and bringing glory to God through them.  It's by being in a relationship with God, which is the reason we were created in the first place. 

  

So also I should mention that I'm going to Fiji and the Line Islands for outreach.  They include Christmas Island, Washington Island, and one more I'm forgetting.  But I'll fly into Fiji, then fly to Christmas Island, then sail to the other islands before flying home.  I'm stoked!

Of Crunch Time

So I'm gonna just be very honest and vulnerable.  I need $2525 by Thursday or I have to go home.
If you feel led to help you can give here:
http://ywamships.net/give/

Thanks guys.

Of Creative Roommates

My roommate Alyssa made a very informational and entertaining video.  Check out how rad this place is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XTsGsMUqo0&feature=share&list=UUEyLXFYmD2clf_wpfyfXZCA

Of Laughter, Tears, and the Father Heart of God

A DTS is not for the faint of heart.  During my first three weeks in Kona I felt like a fish out of water.  Then right as I was suffocating and begging God to let me go home, he showed me that I don’t have gills.  And that I’m not even a fish.  And that all I had to do was breathe.  Oh right.  

They waste no time in a DTS.  Week one they break you down to your core and strip the walls and layers you’ve so carefully built over the years to protect yourself until you are a puddle of tears and bleeding wounds in front of your entire class.  Then, when you think you’re done for, God reminds you of who you are and how much you are loved.  

Then you walk around all raw and new and you learn how to laugh again.

Day one as I wept during worship, He said, “I want you to call me Abba.”  I said it out loud.  Something broke.  Romans 8:14-16 “For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are the sons of God.  For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, ‘Abba!  Father!’ The spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God.”  Yeah.  So own it, walk it out in freedom.

Most helpful with this laughing business are my roommates.  Helga, Alyssa, and Helen.  I like Helga alot cause she is Norwegian, merciful, goofy, and always down for an adventure.  I like Alyssa alot cause she plays ukulele, talks about God, and is learning how to be a sailor.  Helen’s pretty legit cause she quite a cool job as a fashion designer in Brazil to come rough it with three other girls who don’t particularly like to shower or pay to do laundry.  Other than an exciting brush with maggots, our room is relatively clean. 

We have one on one mentors, and that’s a good thing on account of they come up to your room to pray for you when you can’t get out of bed cause you’re too afraid of everything.  Mine is named Neko and she's from Germany.  She has awesome hair and a legit accent.  

I have developed a new morning routine.  Coffee in my mug and two hard boiled eggs.  Unless they don't have eggs and unless there are bugs in my mug.  Then it's toast and a paper cup.  Then "ship shape," which is what our morning chores are called.

We live in a vintage hotel in the heart of downtown Kona with an ocean view from our front deck.  The Iron man triathalon just happend in our front yard.  I fell asleep to the music of "...YOU! ARE! AN IRON MAN!" Till one in the morning.  But it was amazing.

We have class from 8 to 11 and then again 1 to 3.  Then we have a work duty from 3-5.  I most recently have demolished a room.  

Things that I really need prayer for:  

My insurance company decided to reject me for "pre-existing conditions."  Which is weird cause I'm pretty darn healthy.  Also, it's probably cause America is silly.  I love living with people from other countries.  Puts us in perspective.  Not a good perspective.  I can't get insurance and I'm a healthy 27 year old.  

I also need a lot more financial support.  If you feel so led, here is where you can give: http://ywamships.net/give/ 

Of Rude Awakenings, Pre-trip Jitters, and Fear

I was in that stage of sleep where you see things in your dreams that you are actually hearing in the real world.  "I was following the...I was following the...I was following the..."

The letter "I" was punching across my brain like in Sesame Street when I abruptly awoke and realized that Fleet Foxes was utterly failing to wake up my little sister for school.  Again.  I hate that song.

"Jillian."
"What?"

I like that she can answer my question but not turn off her alarm.

"Turn off your alarm!"
"Oh."

And snooze.  This scene repeats five times, and I have a strong urge to punch a baby.  Or maybe just Jillian.

I have been living with my parents for the three weeks prior to shoving off and fulfilling my lifelong dream of being Pippy Longstocking aboard a ship.  My family listens to talk radio which makes me feel like my nerves are on top of my skin when I'm awake.  So you can imagine how it makes me feel at 6:30 in the morning when I'm being awakened by a band that uses far too much reverb.  My inner four year old emerged in full glory and I indulged in a first class temper tantrum.

I lept from my bed, ran down the hall and slammed my parents bedroom door where Armstrong and Ghetty were screeching about another pop culture scandal.  Next, I stumbled to the other end of the house where precious little Jessica was listening to Enya as she got ready for school.  I pounded excedrine for my rapidly developing migraine.

"Goodmorning Christine!"
"You people are the WORST!"

Stummbled back to the the pink and purple spectacle of a bedroom I now share with Jill.  Hi I'm 27 and I share a room with my little sister in my parents house.  I like to tell people I'm passing through.

"Jillian get out of bed."
"Why?"
Because you set your alarm!  So that logically means you need get up.  Otherwise, why the hell did you set it?"
"It's on snooze!"
"You people are the WORST!"

Thirty minutes later the house has been evacuated and all is silent.  But I pounded two pills of caffeine and so the silence is rather pointless now.

My four year old self goes back into her cave and my thoughts turn to six days from now.  Living on my own has made me spoiled.  I like to have my own room and wake up how I want to.  But I'm going to go live, first in a small dorm room with at least one other person, if not six.  Then, move on to an even smaller ship and live there for eight weeks.  Why am I doing this again?

Oh God, what if I change?  What if I don't change?  What if I sink??  My alarm goes off.
"Tomorrow's freedom is today's surrender..."

"What would you like me to surrender?"  I dread the response, but I have to ask.
"Your fear."
"Oh.  Well yeah ok.  That's good.  Let's do that."

The Holy Spirit sits on my chest and His peace takes over.

"I didn't surrender yet."
"You are my child.  I have chosen you, and my presence is always here for you to enjoy.  Also, you're not gonna sink."
"I should probably text Jessica and tell her goodmorning."






In six days I leave for Hawaii.  If you would like to support me on this adventure, you can give at http://ywamships.net/give/.  Also, much prayer would be appreciated...for my future roommates...as I am prone to be grumpy first thing in the morning.
 

This is Kind of a Big Deal

So this is my support letter for my mission trip.  There are some very important changes in here regarding how to support me, so if you received a hard copy of my letter and want to support me please read this instead of your hard copy!

Dear Family and Friends,

The Lord has blessed me with an exciting opportunity to attend Youth With a Mission’s Discipleship Training School (YWAM-DTS) in Kona, Hawaii.

YWAM is an international mission organization whose goal is to train and equip believers so that they may fulfill their part in the Great Commission. There are training schools at various locations all over the world. The goal of the DTS is to train believers both spiritually and culturally; to grow in their relationship with Christ; to learn to hear His voice; and to follow His lead in spreading His love everywhere they minister throughout the world.

YWAM further believes that part of showing Christ’s love is accomplished in a more meaningful way by helping to meet the physical needs of the people encountered. My specific training will be in two different phases:  1. An onsite training at the DTS, and 2. An outreach period in which we will be applying what we have learned. 

I am most excited about the outreach portion because it takes place on a ship that transports medicines and other needed supplies to people living on remote islands or areas of the world that can only be reached by boat.  I am prayerfully considering the location in which I feel the Lord is leading me to serve during this training portion of my ministry.

This three month long ministry adventure is a dream come true for me.  I have three things I’m passionate about: Jesus, people, and the sea. I’m so excited to have the opportunity to combine all three of these passions into one amazing opportunity.  In this season, I feel that the Lord is opening the door and inviting me to take a wild adventure with Him. In order to do this I will need some support.

First, I will need partners who will pray with me. Some of my specific prayer requests include the following:

1. That I would have no fears about traveling,
2. For good health which includes spiritual, emotional, and physical protection,
3. For intense spiritual growth and communication with God,
4. That our team of workers will be focused on Jesus and that His light will shine through us, and
5. That decisions will be made for Christ.

Secondly, I need to raise my own funds for the trip.  So, I humbly ask for your prayerful financial support.  If the Lord leads you to give, no matter what the amount might be, please make checks out to the YWAM Ships OC and send them to my home address: 3164 Willow Bend Dr. Chico, CA 95973.  There are two options for donations.  You can either support the schooling portion of my trip, or the outreach portion.  If you desire to fund the outreach portion, please write Q42013DTS-OR in the left hand corner of the check. Also, only the outreach donations are tax deductable, so if you are giving for the outreach portion, you can include a separte note stating that your donation is for the outreach portion.  You can also pay on line at http://ywamships.net/give/ which is probabaly the easiest way to pay.

Whether you choose to support me spiritually and/or financially, I sincerely thank you. May our Lord richly bless you. 

In Christ,

Christine Goddard

Of Eating Sand

I imagine loving people to be like catching a wave.  I've never caught a wave.  But whenever I imagine catching a wave it is inevitably followed by a disturbing mental image of me eating a face full of sand.

The thing about loving people is that you can't put the cart before the horse.  You can't get so excited about the wave that you leave the surf board.

What, as Christians, are we called to do?  Love God.  Love others.  Lately I've been putting the cart in front of the horse.  I've abandoned my surf board.  I have tasted a glorious mouthful of sand.

Loving people sounds so easy.  It's easy until they are mean to you, take advantage of you, use your kind heart against you for their own gain, step on your rights, and hurt your feelings.

I was walking with my good friend and she said some words to me that rang very true.  You cannot love with an agenda.  You cannot love with an agenda.  You cannot love with an agenda.

Go forth and make disciples.  Here's a news flash.  America has a pretty good idea what Christians believe.  Because we yell it in their faces and tell them they can't be gay.  You can't love with an agenda. 

While lying on the beach, chewing on my mouthful of sand and contemplating my failures, I had a revelation.  It's impossible to love others.  "WTF God?"  (Yes sometimes I cuss around God, He loves me anyway.)  "How am I supposed to love people?  A. They suck. B. I'm terrible at it.  C. I suck!"  And He whispers, "You're getting it backwards, Kid."

You see, I was right.  It is impossible to love others.  Oh sure you can love your friends.  Most of the time.  But not that asshole of an ex-boyfriend, or that child molester or that politician.  You're getting it backwards, Kid.

You see, God is love.  He IS love.  He is the very definition, creator, all encompassing thing that is love.  And you cannot love without Him.  Any love you experience, came from straight from Him.

"Love me."

You see when you seek out God's love, you can truly love unconditionally.  You can look at your Dad who walked out on you and see what God sees.  And when you see what God sees, you love so much your heart breaks.

One more thing.  Perfect love casts out fear.  Fear is the opposite of love.  But where love is, fear cannot exist.

I failed at this.  And so take some advice from a salty, sticky kid with a mouthful of sand.  Love God.  Love God.  Love God.  And He will change hearts.  Especially yours.

That's all.

Of Cooking My Chicken Called Freud

I was talking on the phone with my Mom the other day. She's always full of super awesome advice like, go vote, or, go to church. This particular conversation had to do with eating organically, something I've been passionate about for ages and she's finally catching onto. We talked about how drinking non-homogenized whole milk is really good for you, and how one of the healthiest things to eat is soup made from chicken bones.

Meat and I are not friends. I've scoured the research available to me, trying to find some evidence that I can still be healthy and avoid eating dead things. But you can't really. You can get close...but you can't be all the way healthy and not eat dead animals. So I took myself down to whole foods, which I hardly ever do on account of it's ridiculously expensive, and I bought milk in bottle that had the cream sitting on top. Cool. And I bought a whole chicken. The fresh kind that they wrap up for you, not the frozen kind.

Here's how it happened. I approached the counter and asked the man for a chicken, and he reached in and grabbed one by the leg. I unfortunately started giggling, because the chicken did this floppy, jiggly thing that I can't really explain, but I thought it was funny. So he wrapped it up in paper and handed it to me. This made me giggle more because my chicken just felt so personable, jiggling there in my hands.

So today, when I came home from church, (be proud, Mother.), I decided to cook my chicken. When I unwrapped him, his personality jumped out at me. And it said, "My name is Freud!" And I agreed. Don't get me wrong, I'm not fond of Freud at all...in fact the sooner Freud is bone soup the better, then I don't have to look at his little jiggly self. I googled baked chicken recipes online, and after discovering it would take an hour and a half to two hours to cook Freud, I realized I did not have that much time.

This put in somewhat of a predicament, as I had already dumped him off his paper and onto his cooking dish. So I fished out the paper, and found myself in another predicament. No way in hell was I about to pick him up of that dish. Gross. So I took the dish and dumped him back onto his paper. And he lay there on his back, his legs stretched out, and jiggled amicably. Rolling back up took some doing, he kept trying to slip away from me. Finally I got him mostly covered and back into the fridge. And we'll try this again later.

Of the Drive-Through and Other Such Things...

Here are some of the things I heard in the drive-through this week:

Me: "How's it goin today?"

Customer (Huffily): "Fine. That's the THIRD time I've been asked that just in this drive-through."

Me: "Oh that's cause Liza talked to you on the headset, not me."

Customer: "NO! You asked me too when I first pulled up."

Me: "Oh, I'm sorry maam I didn't hear your response the first time."

What kind of culture do we live in where a woman is pissed cause she's asked how she is???

Me: "That will be $4.24 and you'll see Liza at the window."

Me: "Oh sorry, I'm not Liza, she got busy, I'm Christine."

Customer: "What's the difference?"

For the love.

Another time, a man tasted his drink, demanded his money back, handed me his cup and drove away.

I also got asked for ketchup. AT STARBUCKS. Go to McDonalds Douche-bag.

Why is our culture so fast paced and fat? So self absorbed, impersonal and lazy that they can't even get out of their car to come buy a cup of coffee? Why do they treat the people serving them as if they are less of a person? I was asked for an essay question to write about what I would change about American society...after trying to write it I decided I should probably move to another country. There are so many things that we could potentially love about America, like freedom, wealth, prosperity, health, and then you experience an American...yes, I'm being racist against my own race right now. Grow up people! Stop caring about your stupid, fat, selves, turn off your tv, get off facebook and go do something for someone who is less fortunate than you are.

One morning I had three different people come through the drive through and pay for the car behind them. All in one day! And it was the greatest day ever. People are powerful, you have the power to hurt and to heal, and if we all just took our eyes off ourselves for a second the world would be a nicer place to live.

Of the Moon...Or Lack Thereof...

Today I woke up at two. In the afternoon. If you know me at all you know that I am a hardcore morning person. Even on my days off. I hate the feeling of my day being wasted by sleeping through it. So you can imagine my horror when I awoke to the realization that I had slept my day away and that I had to be at work in two hours. I had beautiful plans for the day too. I was gonna work out, go to the grocery store, and get ahead on my homework. Instead, I had cold oatmeal and nutella on crackers since that is pretty much the extent of what's left in my kitchen. Healthy.

I don't feel as badly about sleeping in though, because last night was a great night and I wouldn't have missed it for the world. For one thing, after work I had a date with the one and only Jordan Brown, who is one of the coolest girls I've ever met. We went to this coffee shop called Jives that is open until 12ish but that's only if the owner feels like closing. Sometimes he's too busy jamming on his electric to notice the time. His coffee is better than anything I've ever experienced. He has ten kids, most of whom work for him. Dang, if my dad owned a shop like that I'd work there too. He has this really awesome espresso machine that is part manual and part automatic. And it's blue. Which I love. I was ashamed that all I had to do was push a button to pull a shot in my workplace.

It was open mic night, but I didn't quite have the guts to get up and play. Plus I was with Jordan, and I didn't want to put our date on hold while I went and performed.

The second thing that was great about last night was that the night itself was beautiful. The night sky in CO is kind of a blue green color, and last night was cloudy, so it added this grey tint that made the world look smokey and mysterious. It smelled like wet dirt...which may have actually been my soap mixed with coffee grounds, but for the sake of the mood we'll say it was wet earth.

There is something magical about the middle of the night. A loneliness and stillness that is yours and yours alone. I drove home on the freeway at forty-five miles per hour simply because I could. Mine was the only car on the road. Neko Case was in my CD player and I kept playing song number nine over and over again. There is a line there that says "don't let this fading summer pass you by" and I kept mulling it over. So often I don't care to enjoy things. My friend Chad says that human beings have a hard time just being.

I think Chad is right, just be. Stay up super late sometime just so you can see what the sky looks like. God put Adam and Eve on earth not so they could do great things for society, or have an awesome destiny, He just put them there to be. So they could enjoy what He made. So He could show someone His creation. And so maybe my purpose is to love that blue green of the night sky in CO. Or to sit in a giant field and watch fire flies. Or take a walk through Bidwell Park. To just be.

Of Our Cynics

Here's a thought I'm trying to deal with: How in the world do I deal with this thing called the Bible? In my limited observation of the world around me, I've come to the conclusion that there are three types of Bible readers. There are the types that take the whole thing as if it were written specifically for them, and apply every single book, chapter, and verse to their personal lives. Now listen up cynics who just scoffed at that sentence...tell me honestly you've never done that. Yes, then there are you people who have swung to the opposite side of the spectrum and view the book as a historical document. Cynics, I call them. These people arrogantly scorn anyone who says, "The Lord gave me this verse..." The third group of readers are caught somewhere in the middle of these two, dutifully reading, but muddled as what to glean from it.

I am one caught in the middle. It frustrates me to the point of throwing the thing across the room and not even bothering. When I was a young, innocent child, I read the Bible as one of the people in type 1. I was young and didn't know better. Here's what I'm wondering...when I was struggling, grieving or rejoicing and I flipped open my Bible and it "just happened" to land on a verse I needed to hear...what was that? God? Or coincidence? This sort of thing happened a lot in my Bible reading while I was growing up... so now that I'm older do I go through my journal and throw out all those verses that I probably shouldn't have applied to my life because the Bible is a historical document? Or is the Bible "living and breathing? And what the hell does that even mean?

This whole thing makes me angry. Somewhere along the way, our generation crossed over from "critical thinkers" to cynics. I don't like cynics, but I think I am one.

In my walk with the Lord, there was a time when I was dangerously close to losing my faith. The Lord used two songs in very profound ways in my life. One of them was "My sweet Lord" by George Harrison, and the other was "As Is" by Ani Difranco. The first was relatable to me in that I "really wanted to know him, go with him, but it was taking so long." I couldn't find Him even though I was striving so hard. The second one, even though written about a lesbian lover, dealt with acceptance "as is." The Lord used it to show me he would accept me as I was, regardless of my crap. Without these two songs, I may not be a Christ follower today.

So then, why can I take those two songs, which were written by imperfect people, and say that they had a profound impact on my walk with God, yet I'm hesitant to apply the written word of a Holy God to my personal walk, because OH CRAP I TOOK IT OUT OF CONTEXT!

I swear to you I'm not the only one who's done this. I think if you're honest with yourself, you've done it too. Our cynics, in all their arrogant, educated glory, are nothing but hypocrites.

So where's the line? I know that there has to be a balance somewhere, but I'm baffled by the magnitude and complexity of this book. Whether you are a type 1 or type 2 reader, you have seriously underestimated the Bible. This is the reason I've been avoiding it. The task of trying to grasp it is daunting, and I'm seriously intimidated. It's only the written word of a Holy God. But we brainless little humans have this unquenchable need to understand everything, even if it means we have to diminish the power of God.

Of City of Black and White

I recently acquired Matt Kearney's City of Black and White album. This man is a song writing genius. He can pretty much do no wrong. I discovered that the secret to his genius is that he has an uncanny ability to write bridges. If his verses and choruses are good, his bridges are ten times better. A bridge has the ability to make or break a song, and his usually make them. The other thing I like about this album is the use of interesting orchestration. He uses a hammer dulcimer at one point, which is pretty much incredible. I absolutely love "Here we go again" especially the bridge.

The only thing I find a little irritating are his lyrics. They are very well written lyrics, but they are also sappy love songs. I think Matt Kearney needs counseling. He clearly has problems with relationships. Based on all his songs, his relationships are full of drama and problems. They are very well written sappy love songs and that's all. If he were to take his genius and write songs about things that are important (not that relationships aren't important, but every song? Really?) then his career would explode, and he would go down in history, in my opinion. So, Matt, I know you'll never read this, but really. Write about something other than a girl for once, and you'll be incredible.

I hate this.

I don't understand. I can't comprehend this horrible thing that happens to people every single day. Sure, I know the Christian answer about how Eve screwed up and Adam watched and now this thing happens. I know the story. But I don't get it. I can't understand that I won't see her when I get home. That she won't smile and wave at me anymore. That this horrible thing robs people of their dearest friends and family.

I hear that there's hope, and that I'll see her again in eternity. But I don't get eternity...and so I don't get the hope...the hope is incomprehensible, and thus, isn't comforting at the moment. She's still gone, and it's hard for me to believe sometimes that this thing I believe is good enough.

What is death? What is it like? What happens right after? What is a soul? Is there such a thing? Why is everything abstract? I see visions and dream dreams, I hear the Lord clearly...but this is the thing that I hate. This unknown, tragic, and scary thing that always happens. This thing that carries with it no joy. It makes you lonely. It makes you hurt. It makes you feel guilty.

I counted on her being there when I got home. I counted on her being at my wedding. She was so good when I left, and in just a few short days everything crashed and she was whisked away. I don't sound very Godly at the moment. But I can't comprehend death and I get tired of people throwing out "hope" to make us feel better about it.

I think the point is this: I know I'll see her again...but that realization is not in the least comforting right now.