I miss & I grieve & I'm blessed.

Right now, I really miss home. I miss Australia.

And by "right now" I mean "right now", but also the last couple of days. The last week. The last month, really. 

It's only when you leave anything, anyone and anywhere do you truly realize it's beauty, it's uniqueness, it's comfort and it's worth; and I grieve - something in me grieves - for the people and the landscape and the country and the culture that I grew up in, and that I left behind.

I miss waking up to the sound of kookaburra's, and  to morning cuddles with my beloved dog. I miss Anzac biscuits, and milo, and scones which are not in the shape of triangles, because that's stupid.

 I miss my bed, and my parents, my brothers, and my friends. People who just want to hang out, and watch movies, and talk.

 I miss dance parties before, during and after youth group, I miss studying on the grass outside, and I miss just driving to the ocean every time I needed space, and sun. 

I miss early morning runs in the bush, with the occasional echidna's, and the early morning wallabies, and I miss having grandpa come over Sunday nights for dinner. I miss running past Woolworths every morning and being tempted by the wafts of fresh early morning bakery goods. 

 I miss playing board games with my brothers, getting overly passionate about the game of Survivor, and eating vegetarian, and having hippy friends with dread locks, and eating fresh seafood, and always running into somebody I know when I look like poop at Cherrybrook Shops.

 I miss driving past my primary school everyday, and I miss speaking for Orange Hope, and I miss taking photos, and I miss blocks of Cadbury chocolate. I miss taking the stupid City Rail trains, and mocking how they say "Berowra", and I miss Sydney Harbour - in all its glorious beauty. 

I even miss uni; going to classes, finding a good spot in the library,  structuring essays, and walking down the tree-lined walkaways in the sun. 

When you leave so much of what made you you behind, and so many of the people who understand your strange ways ( like wearing multiple pairs of mis-matching socks at all times, only being able to eat chocolate when I have a matching glass of water, not liking cake, and brushing my teeth for ten minutes), you can become - I have become - a little lost.

In one of my classes last year (that's my fantastic memory for you) we were talking about the cultural idea of "soul loss" for some around the world. Where we in the West understand the body and medicine from a scientific, matter based perspective, that's not universal; and many, many people believe that sickness is a result of the soul getting lost, or simply wandering away. If I weren't a passionate believer of Jesus Christ, and if the symptoms of soul loss were feeling lost, fidgety, discontent, and lonely; then I would be tempted to believe that it happened; my soul has simply wandered away. 

Travel really does break you down a little bit, and show you what's left. What's left when all the culture stuff, the family stuff and the routine stuff is stripped away. 

It's been difficult for me, moving here. It's been difficult for me, living here. It's been difficult for me, trying to fit in here. Making friends here. I don't feel like I belong here. It's been difficult, emotionally.

I've had to grow up, pay rent, buy my first car, deal with a car accident, deal with moving house, deal with cooking and cleaning, deal with finances, deal with being an adult, deal with a whole new set of people, a whole new city, a whole new church, a whole new food palette, a whole new country and a whole new culture.  I've had to be in an adult relationship, learning forgiveness, selflessness, self control and other really difficult lessons about who I am, and how I react to certain things. I've had to learn about contentment, and joy, and purpose, and destiny. And the stupid price of petrol, and the fact they call it "gas". AND driving on the right hand side of the road, on the left hand side of the car.

I feel sick. I have a headache, and my nose is blocked, and my muscles hurt, and I'm tired; and I'm alternating between sweating and freezing cold. I haven't worked out in two days because I'm so exhausted, and today because I left my running shoes at my new house. Ugh. I am Bec, hear me complain. 

Last night, I got really kind of frustrated at God. All I want to do, is what He wants. I just want to go where He wants. I just want Him to tell me, so I don't make big fat forever life altering mistakes. I asked Him to give me a sign, to close a door, to open another, to give me peace, to speak, to give me a dream; to give me anything, something, and by the end I was kind of begging. 

Why do I find myself with no peace, and silence? Especially when all I want to do is His will, and all I am finding is discontentment, fear and unease? And especially especially when the decisions I have to make in this season of my life are truly the most important, and will determine the rest of my short days on this crazy earth? Why, why, why God. 

I'm one of the most indecisive people in the world, and I've always found it very difficult to make decisions, big or little, and so I really, truly wanted God to show up and give me some direction on this one. Please, please, please God. Especially when we have immigration lawyers and deadlines and families and plane tickets and church boards and finances and border security involved. Especially when the entire rest of my life is involved. 

And honestly, with all this constantly swirling around and around in my head, and two jobs, and youth group, and a fundraising campaign, and moving house, and a serious relationship, and not enough sleep, and missing home;  a lot of the time, I  just want to throw into the towel and go home. I want familiar, I want comfortable, I want home. I want to drive to the beach, and take off my shoes and stand at the waters edge, and breathe in the salt, and still myself. 

How I long to soar down on a Qantas Jet and fly over my beautiful city; with those familiar butterflies rumbling in my belly as I come back home.

It hurts that I may not live in Australia for the majority of my life. It hurts that I may live a life away from my family. It hurts. It hurts. It all hurts.

I know that God is real, I'm convinced of that. I know that He is good and faithful; I've experienced and witnessed that, time and time again. There's no doubts there. I know He speaks; He has, again and again. And He does, every time I open His word. But that doesn't mean I don't hurt, and that I'm not confused. 

The good news is that no matter where I am in this strange world, I won't be home. Because this world isn't my home. I will never feel completely content, I will always long for more. I will always struggle with the wants of my flesh, and the desires of my soul. This world is not a good or perfect place, and I will always feel frustrated, and confused, because I am an alien here. 

In America, I'm an alien. To be honest, I'm a little tired of being "the Australian girl" . Not because I'm ashamed of being Australian - not even a little bit, I LOVE that I am, I just want to be Bec. I'm not my nationality, I'm just me. 

And no matter where I am; I'll miss where I'm not. And ultimately, I'll long for where I'm going. 

Feelings change. Feelings are fleeting, and you know what? Even though I don't feel it right now, I don't need to. It's not about a feeling. And no matter what decision I make, God is in control, and uses all things for my good. No matter how frustrated I get; He remains loving, and patient, and in control. He is strong, where I am weak. My feelings change, His character doesn't. 

I have so much to be thankful for, so many blessings, and so much to do look forward to.

I'm from a beautiful country, and an incredible family. I had a wonderful upbringing, and I'm educated, well fed, and wealthy; extremely wealthy by the worlds standards. I'm free, and I'm healthy. I can turn on the tap and get clean water, and I'm self motivated enough to get up at 5:30am every morning to run. Who does that. However I count all that as loss, when counting the truth of Jesus Christ in my life. The one who knit me together in my mothers womb, knows me better then I ever could, and breathes purpose into my every moment of my every day. Not only does He love me, but He loves me so much He has surrounded me with others who love me too. And they tell me everyday. 

I am hurt, confused, grieving, and missing home; but oh so very, very blessed. 

Hand Over the Line

You guys. I am so excited.

I know you haven't seen me in a while and I'm sorry and I miss you.

But, here's what's been happening.

You know I told you a while ago, to keep me accountable in doing something about human trafficking?

Well, that something is now. It's time.

Because I have a dream. A big dream. A dream of no more; no more children loosing their innocence, forced into sexual acts against their will. There are 2 million of them, did you know that? Two million, children. With names, faces, hopes. How can we live in a world like that.

I dream of the largest human slave trade in the globe's history coming to an end in my lifetime.

I dream of no more; no more women behind locked doors, no more debt bondage, no more voicelessness, no more deceiving, no more rape.

I dream of no more demand; as people come to realize their identity in Christ and the purpose God has for their lives, the truth,  freedom, healing and redemption available.

Reality is, no where in our world, not our nation nor our city is exempt from the monstrosity of modern day slavery, forced labour, debt bondage, and the treatment of people – made in the image of God – as property. I dream of that no more. 

And (perhaps a little unrealistically) I dream of storming into trap houses, gathering the trafficked into my arms, slinging them over my shoulder and rescuing the captive. Raising the kids and weeping with the women through their trauma.

^ And because I can't realistically do that (at this point in my life), I'm doing the next best thing I know how. I'm rallying the troops, writing, organising  opening my heart, giving up my time and making a fuss.

And this fuss and this dream has turned - in the last couple of weeks - into something quite beautiful. It's called Hand Over the Line.

Victims of human trafficking - the 4 million of them each year - loose little but all control of their lives.

The control, is in fact stripped away from them. Taken. Taken, against their will.

And so Hand Over the Line is about just that, it's about giving up control of our lives, voluntarily, to intercede for the millions who can not.

It's about going to the cross with this issue, choosing not to ignore it, doing something about it; and supporting others who are working toward a worldwide abolition movement.

It’s therefore about handing over the line of control. It’s about handing over the poverty line, and the line at which you yourself would enter into that kind of a scene yourself; either as a trafficker, or the trafficked.

I made a video.

So what is it?

Basically, I'm gathering people. People to stand with me on this, and people who are willing to say "that's not okay!"

It's a 5 day event. September 22 - 27. It's going to start on a Sunday, and finish on a Friday.

The idea is that for those 5 day you are going to be given a "fate". If you want to join you can choose a Fate from Level 1, or 2. But that's where the choosing ends.

If you chose a LEVEL 1, you could be living without:

-       Electricity

-       Technology

-       Furniture

-       A social life, or

-       Sugar

for the week. And if you choose a LEVEL 2, you could be:

-       wearing only two outfits

-       living below the $2 a day poverty line, and spending only $10 on food

-       Going without a car, or

-       Living outside

for the week!

"But that sounds horrible!"

Yeah, it probably will be. Point is, we get to choose. Point is, they do not. And I care about they; I believe they have a name. 

Our wonderful volunteers are going to be gathering sponsorship the month before the event (starting now!), and our goal is to raise $1000 for "I've Got A Name" (http://ivegotaname.com/) who fight the issue of human trafficking both locally (as in Nebraska locally..) and abroad; by supporting other organisations who have proven themselves as effective.

We are going to ask for our funds to be given 50-50; to Tiny Hands International (www.tinyhandsinternational.org) and The Bay (the-bay.org).

I'm talking resuing and caring for the orphaned, homeless and human trafficked. From Nepal, to street-kid Nebraska. 

Will it save them all? No.  Will that stop me? No. Will it help? Yes.

And now, I need your help.

If you want to join us - Australian, American or otherwise - we would love you. Worldwide abolition movement? Um, yes please!

If you want to support me, or my team  - then we would be blessed. BLESSED. You would be a dream and prayer come true, a blessing.

Shoot me an email (handovertheline@gmail.com) or leave a comment here, for either ^

Please, you are welcome. More then welcome, with open arms and bear hugs..

We're on facebook too!: www.facebook.com/handovertheline

I'm so excited. Come with me!

E&T

THE PHILOSOPHY OF DIVINE INCONVENIENCE

That God is radical, counter-cultural, all loving and powerful in such a way that if we step out in faith, it's going to mirror all those things. It's going to be right and God glorifying, but it most certainly will not be easy, it may not be successful or profitable (by the worlds standards), and it will almost positively feel and be completely inconvenient; ruining your expectations and plans for the moment, your day, your life, your image, and your perfectly thought out schedule.

And on that note;

ETHAN AND TAMI 

It's been too long since I've had the pleasure of taking Queen Elizabeth (my camera) out for the morning, to sit in the grass and lay across the train tracks with a beautiful couple, capturing in still moments the love that they share in the each and every day.

Yesterday I had the overwhelming pleasure of doing so with two of my new favourite people on the planet; Tami and Ethan. It was their one year anniversary a few days ago, and so we grabbed some props and pintrest inspiration and headed out into Omaha; to see how things would happen.

The love of these two for each other, and more importantly; their faithful love for their Lord is everything inspiring and just beautiful to be a small witness of. 

Thank you, E&T, and happy anniversary!