Instead of your shame there shall be a double portion.

I go to a college full of single christian boys and it is not until just now that I find myself putting on make up and worrying about what to wear.  Tonight I am going out to do life with women working on the streets for the first time (i'm on the lookout for an alternative to the label 'prostitute' it doesn't seem to quite fit right).

And I am absolutely nervous.  But this is the order of my butterflies:

1. Driving, a wonderful couple are letting me borrow their car but it is French, so the steering wheel is on the wrong side, the gear stick is different and its in km not miles.  I have also never driven in this country before and am already not confident with my driving abilities.  So here is my first chance to conquer my fears: you can't live your life scared.

2. What if the women don't like me?  Hence the make up and the clothes worrying... I even nearly took my glasses off to get my contacts then realised I was being ridiculous.  I'm pretty sure its usually the prostitutes that worry middle-class, christian girls won't like them. (The glasses are staying on by the way).

3.  Then comes the what if I get stabbed by an angry pimp fear.  Perfectly rational haha.

So it is probably pretty evident that I don't know what to expect, but I do know more than probably any other evening in my life that I am walking in the Lord's will for me on this night.  So whether I get lost or crash or don't fit in or my safety is at risk, it is for the glory of God.  "Here am I! Send me."

"He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound... They shall build up the ancient ruins; they shall raise up the former devastation  they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastation of many generations." Isaiah 61

Love is not a victory march.

"You wont relent until you have it all," I've sung it, I've believed it but now I feel the weight of it.  A wise lady in my life spoke to me of how when we love there is always the risk of hurting, but we do not stop loving.  That is the beauty of love, that we pour enough in that it hurts to be apart.  We can protect ourselves from the risk of hurt by loving half heartedly or not at all, but this is not what we were made for.  And I will not let myself make that compromise.

Its hard to not be sad over the future I had nurtured and planned out for myself but I keep going back to a conversation I had with another friend I have been blessed to meet at college.  He talked about how back home in Kenya, they have a completely different concept of time.  Time, for them, is not an entity to be utilized, it is not slipping away.  When you stop to talk with someone, you are making time not wasting time.  He also talked of how they only have a 2 year concept of future and past.  If he were to make plans for something any further away they would ask him why he was worrying about it.  There is no such thing as 'your 5 year plan.'  What a stress relief that would be! I have tried to keep this in the back of mind lately.  I have no reason to believe the Lord will not be faithful with his plans of good for me, as he has each second of each day of my life so far.

And lastly, God has spurred me on with hope as he refocuses me on my calling.  A spot has opened up for the Thursday night prostitute ministry with Teen Challenge.  So I will be reducing my time working with the homeless men at the night shelter.  I can not believe this is happening quite honestly, I had always wondered what country, what organisation, what qualifications would be my way in to this work.  Yet the Lord has brought it right into my lap. I am so excited and so very terrified, I am completely unequipped, even getting there I am scared for (some beautiful friends are letting me drive their car).  But I finally feel like I have no time for my insecurities and lack of confidence anymore.  Life is too short, and some things are too important.

So there it is, my cold and broken hallelujah.

"...let the bones you have broken rejoice." Psalm 51.

Soli deo Gloria.

You have to be shaken to be sifted.

Abraham was made an unbelievable promise, that his name would be carried on, that his descendants would out number the stars of the sky.  He was given a son.  Then one day, the Lord asked for him back, he didn't reach in and snatched him, he required Abraham to offer up what was most precious to him.

There are times when the Lord asks this of us too, to carry what we've been holding close and take it to the fire to be sacrificed, a love offering to a jealous God.  Abraham didn't know that the Lord would intervene and neither can we; there is a chance that the fire will refine, and there is a chance that it will burn to cinders.

Better to let the Lord return your heart as cinders than to boast the silver of the world.  Better but painful.

'That she may be crowned'

I was always comforted by the idea that we are slaves to righteousness, it meant I wasn't a slave to anything else.  And then a little while ago it didn't seem so appealing anymore. Discipline, accountability, righteousness: what is the point? I'm still saved, I can still love.

Then recently I have been thinking a lot about crowns.  I've realised that we are all crowned by something, be it Satan or self-gratification or selflessness or faithfulness.  But the crown of Jesus is one of thistles and endurance and passionate, scandalous love.  The one he promises is one of glory and honor and righteousness. Tertullian urges woman to be of a godly and modest nature, "....when woman proves stronger than torturing man, when she suffers fires or crosses or sword or wild beasts that she may be crowned."

That she may be crowned.

The crown is a reminder to me that the fight is not in vain, that I am living for eternity and the crown that awaits me there.  It's cute to be carefree and reckless but the truth is, I'm always choosing a crown.

Introducing Lola.

It all started at Starbucks, during my visit to Texas a couple of weeks ago. We ordered our drinks and Cathy asked us if we have 'coffee names.'  JJ and I hadn't heard of this concept so she explained that when asked for her name in coffee shops she says that her name is Kate....and apparently its not just her.  The idea is that you give a name easier to spell, or if you don't want your real name called out.  Well I don't really have an issue with either of these but Janet and I saw this as a chance to explore our alter egos.

Introducing Lola...

Lola lives in Paris where she can drink red wine, lots of black coffee, wear black all the time and smoke.  She spends her time in abstract loneliness but uses this to give depth to her art.  She works in bars and cafes but never long enough in one place for people to get to know her. Lola likes to read most of the day away, sometimes novels, sometimes history or philosophy, but she never speaks of her knowledge because she doesn't seek to impress but to understand.  Other days she just sleeps all day,only waking up to cook, drink and smoke, in black.

This is Lola, and this is who now collects my coffee.