So, once upon a time,
I went to Austin for a conference.
Arriving there, I really had no idea what to expect
other than trendily dressed and badassly accessorized kindred spirits
with a shared heart for orphans and widows.
I hadn't yet even viewed the itinerary, having been so crazy busy
with the starting of a new job as a professor (a what? me?)
and having re-entered the world of dating after a 10 year hiatus.
(Could you please pass a Xanax?)
Did I mention that I have a little person that needs fed, watered,
and has at least 100 questions for me every day about how the world works
and what my favorite color would be if it in fact were not blue?
So, yeah. I'm brain dead most of the time.
Let me take a moment here to give a shout out to my travel companion extraordinaire, Breck,
who ensured that I had a place to lay my head, transportation,
and a general sense of what in the heck was going on. (Kisses to you, Brecky.)
(Travel buddy, Savage Race companion, and fellow Noonday Sister, the Breckster.)
I hadn't prayed about the trip, my hopes or expectations, etc.
This is par for the course of my haphazard believerdom.
Those of you that know me are aware that I am a hot or at least lukewarm mess
at least 90% of the time.
Hands too full, not totally sure what's happening next,
and likely to drop the occasional ball or two of the 17 that I'm juggling.
Enter Jalia.
Jalia was our speaker for the first night of conference.
(I got to hug on the amazingly inspiring Jalia Muwanga, artisan rock star.)
(I got to hug on the amazingly inspiring Jalia Muwanga, artisan rock star.)
She is the lovely Ugandan women who co-founded our first ever artisan group.
During her time, she shared her amazing story of redemption...
how she and her family have gone from having no house, no job, no money, and no hope
to overseeing a successful fair trade business
employing and empowering over 300 people in just 3 years.
Hearing this made my heart sing.
Made me so excited and thankful to be a teeny tiny part of Noonday's mission.
If things had stopped there, my weekend would be complete.
(As soon as Jen Hatmaker and I were bff's the next day after she spoke.)
(Me and my BFF, Jen Hatmaker, my earthly comedic hero and fellow professed hot mess.)
(Me and my BFF, Jen Hatmaker, my earthly comedic hero and fellow professed hot mess.)
AND THEN....
Jalia shared more about her life and her family.
She shared the name of her children and told us a little story about her son's middle name,
"Mukisa." (mue-key-sah)
In her native language, this beautiful word means.
"The blessing of God adds no sorrow."
Hold the phone.
This experience had just gotten even more profound....
Many years ago, a very influential person in my life had done a sort of prophesy over me
(sounds hokey...it wasn't)
and called me "a woman of sorrows."
As awful as that may sound and as much as I kind of hated her face for pronouncing that,
it was very appropriate for that stage of my life.
There was so much stored up grief from years past.
And there was SO MUCH DEATH that was about to occur around me.
Death of my Pappy, the man that had raised me and had been my father figure.
Death of my marriage.
Death of my dreams of the kind of life that deserved
those goofy mom, dad, 3.5 kids and dog stickers
those goofy mom, dad, 3.5 kids and dog stickers
that people plaster on the back of their SUV's.
Death of my church family.
Death of one of my most intimate friendships.
I hated that name and was ill equipped to deal with the reality of it.
I much preferred to put a smile on my face, crack a joke (or ten),
and move on to the next happy thought I could scramble to create.
Lord knows I spent the next 7 years sorrowing.
Simultaneously hating but believing that this name was in fact my name.
Woman of Sorrows, reporting for duty.
Ugh.
But then it hit me! Like a cherry on top of a hot fudge sundae.
Like the bright shiny beam of the Noonday sun.
Right smack in the middle of nowhere Texas.
Jalia spoke and the clouds parted...
MUKISA!
The blessing of God adds NO SORROW.
That stupid, awful truth was NOT A LIFELONG CURSE.
After years of burden and oppression,
in a split second and with one simple word,
that awful hold on me was broken.
MUKISA.
To make it even more warm and fuzzy,
Jalia then busted out in a song of the same name.
Singing what felt like a foreign language lullaby straight from the mouth of an angel.
Call me crazy, but I swear Jesus was singing, folks.
It took all that I had not to run up to Jalia,
crawl up in her lap, and beg for her to sing the lullaby again.
The most beautiful part of this experience was that all that I had to do was show up.
Completely unprepared, bedraggled hot mess of a single Momma,
awkward date, and nutty professor who just happens to be passionate
about the cause of the widow and orphan.
My point?
Jesus is bigger than our sorrow.
Jesus is bigger than our planning.
Or lack thereof...
Jesus is in the business of taking ashes, rubble, and tears
and turning them in to a perfect picture of His goodness and peace.
He is perfectly capable of showing up for us every day.
In just the way that you need Him.
And then the next day again even bigger and better.
And sometimes he's even sweet enough to do it when we didn't ask
or weren't even aware of how we needed Him.
He is perfectly capable of showing up for us every day.
In just the way that you need Him.
And then the next day again even bigger and better.
And sometimes he's even sweet enough to do it when we didn't ask
or weren't even aware of how we needed Him.
This is true for Jalia and the now 300+ members of African Style.
This is true for little old me.
And this is true for YOU.
At the risk of sounding all Bible beater crazy person
and scaring off of decent portion of all of you readers,
please know that I am a normal,
very down-to-earth kind of girl.
very down-to-earth kind of girl.
I cuss more than I should.
I drink wine and beer and even occasionally too much of it.
I frequently am not content with the riches that I have been given.
I take things for granted.
Sometimes I even want to commit murder.
So, let it be said that I sin.
Sometimes I even want to commit murder.
So, let it be said that I sin.
Often.
But that's not too much for God.
He loves me.
He delights in me.
And my haphazard hot-messness.
And he delights in you, too.
Sending you good vibrations of that blessed wholeness, acceptance, and love,
dear readers.
ANYTHING can be overcome.
Just believe.
ANYTHING can be overcome.
Just believe.
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And thanks for tuning in.
Happy day everyone. :)
And thanks for tuning in.
Happy day everyone. :)