MPH

You may remember a few months ago I wrote a blog post where I informed the universe I had been accepted into the University of Liverpool – Masters in Public Health program.  Today I want to share a little bit more about the back end of that story and an update as to where I am today.

I’ve always been a learner and loved it.  I’ve said if money wasn’t an issue I’d probably be a perpetual student; there’s so much more out there that I want to know about! I’m the one that instead of taking easy classes my senior year I jumped ahead to university and took a full course load while I was still in high school.  I’ve always wanted to go back to school, even started several years back when I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do with my life.  So the more I find myself loving and thriving in this field, the more it became apparent that it was time to pursue this degree.

The MPH is a baseline standard in the field of public and global health.  If I was to try to do what I am doing now with any other organization, I would have to have an MPH.  As we are working towards further growth in our programs and global impact, the MPH will give me a richer base of knowledge in things like measurement and evaluation, qualitative analysis and data collection, behavior change models and social determinants towards health practice.

I’m not planning to leave; rather, I would love to be here much, much longer.  This degree isn’t meant for me to be able to get a better paying job elsewhere, it is so I can do my job here better, with a higher level of academic and professional credibility.

So about a year ago I started looking at different schools all over the world. I didn’t want to leave MS so an online degree was important, however many schools offer ‘affiliate’ online degrees that are diploma mills and have no actual credibility.  No way am I going to spend the money on a useless degree!  The University of Liverpool degree online is the exact same degree as if you were there in person.  It’s also one of the recommended programs by the WHO (United Nations) for people looking to work in that organization.  So I figured if it was okay with the UN, it would probably be a good one!

If you know me at all you know I hold my future very loosely; I wanted to get this degree, but only if it was the best thing for me and had the blessing of God on it!  No way did I want to be working full time and going to school and giving up my personal time if God wasn’t going to bless it or if it was for my own selfish gain!  So I put some fleeces out there.  (Gideon put out fleeces as a way to ‘check in’ with God to verify his call and blessing…Judges, chapter 6)

One – would I get in?  Liverpool is not an easy peasy school… it’s been thirteen years since I graduated from college and while I didn’t have a reason to think I wouldn’t get in, it was certainly a possibility.  So I prayed over and over and over that if this wasn’t the best for me that I wouldn’t get in. 

Well, as you know, I did. Then comes the second fleece – will it get funded? No way will I go into debt to do this thing. I worked too hard for too long to get OUT of debt, and am now living in the favor that being debt-free offers. (It’s amazing).  So I trusted that if it isn’t the best thing for me that it wouldn’t get funded.  And I wrote that blog post and left it at that.

Well, the first year is entirely funded.  Thanks to the Good Shepherd Lutheran Church (Duluth, MN) Endowment fund grant, Mercy Ships, a few other small organizations, several anonymous donors, and supportive friends, family, and strangers. 

So I started the first week of July and it’s been a really fun road so far.  It’s a lot of reading and a lot of writing and thankfully both come relatively easily for me; some topics are especially interesting and some are boring but you have to jump through the hoops sometimes.  It takes up a lot of time; one of the sacrifices I willingly have made is a definite cut to personal and social time, however I do believe it will be worth it. My work has been supportive as well and I’ve been able to take some time during the week to try to keep up. 

I’ve only been back on the ship for just over a week so I’m not yet sure how well I will be able to balance work and school but I’m going to try!  My grades so far are good and I still hold it all quite loosely; I want to make it work and I will try really hard to make it work, but if it doesn’t, it won’t ruin me!

It’s a two-and-a-half to three-year program; depends on if you take breaks between modules and how long your thesis research takes.  I am hoping to get it finished on the short end of that timeline. My first year is funded so we will see how it goes, if it goes well I will need another $9k next July. Just throwing that out there.  I don’t ever have to go to Liverpool in person, but I can go there to graduate alongside with their in-person students.  We shall see if I make the trip in a few years. If I make it that far.

A huge thanks to everyone who has encouraged me on this journey so far, and those that have supported it financially.   I couldn’t do this without you!! 

University of Liverpool Coat of Arms

Let go.

The last few days have been, shall we say… in the nicest possible way… chaotic.  My home came home and we hit the ground running – full speed ahead as they say.

I have an incredible team this year that has multiplied by a whole lot, and I have full confidence in their ability to blow all of our minds with their awesomeness, once they know what they need to do. Unfortunately most of that information is in MY head, not theirs yet. 

We are doing some awesomely huge, new, exciting projects this year that are all starting at the same time… now.  All of those projects need supplies, money, training, equipment, and guidance. Now.

I’m settling back into my home that left nearly four months ago, that while I was gone sailed several times in the open seas.  I can’t find anything where I thought I left it. I’m reconnecting with dear friends I haven’t seen in months and cleaning up an email inbox that collected nearly eleven hundred emails over the absence and I’m also an MPH student trying not to fail in my first module and… and… and…

At one point last week I said to my boss, “I feel like I’m barely holding on by my fingernails.”

The imagery there is that there is a whole lot going on, and I’m gripping with all my strength to hold on by my fingernails; as though I have already nearly lost my grip, that if I were to slip just a fraction of a centimeter further I would (to mix all possible metaphors) fall into the abyss of chaos and brokenness and the balls I’m juggling would all crash and burn and I would drown.

It’s a phrase I have used before; when I feel right on the edge but there is a filament of strength left in me; of fight, of determination and commitment that no matter what I WILL NOT FALL. I might be a bit short with people; snarky, irritable, even rude; but I WILL NOT FALL. 

Then… one evening as I as lifted the cries of my heart to the heavens; confessing my fear that at any minute one more thing will come along and I will fall and crash and burn and drown, the still small voice whispered two words that truly have transformational power.

Let go.

The words were simple and the imagery profound; letting go doesn’t mean crashing and burning and drowning…

It means trusting.

Trusting the one that has promised never to leave me.

Trusting He hasn’t brought me here to abandon me. 

Trusting He does care about the details.  He wants these people and projects to bring life and hope and healing to Madagascar even more than I do.

Trusting he will orchestrate my next steps, minutes, breaths… if I trust him… and stop ripping off my fingernails trying to hold on by my own strength.

It's called surrender. 

So with fingernails intact, my determination and drive and fear and striving all released to the heavens, I find myself having the most incredible week I can remember.

I’ve connected deeply with people and led meetings and attended meetings and sorted out details and made it through emails and did about six hours of schoolwork in three and shared treats with dear friends and I’ve slept well and found time I wasn’t expecting for encouraging others and offering kindness and loved well and spoken life and experienced joy and life to the full.

We can safely say I am big proponent of this (not so) new stress management plan.

Surrender. 

Let go. 

Antananarivo

As I mentioned in my last blog post the ship has been delayed; what should have been a reunion with friends and a return to ship life became an extended stay in Antananarivo.  As they say in Mercy Ships, the only constant is change!  The ship is now sailing through the southwest Indian ocean and is scheduled to arrive in Tamatave on Sunday, several weeks late but right on time.

My time in Antananarivo has been very fruitful.  I have been able to meet with various government and medical leaders and put some details in place for our massive medical training program happening here this field service. It is so massive that we have brought on another crew member to join my team who will live here in Tana; so I’ve had some good time to walk through processes, procedures, and meet some of the important connections she will need for the coming year.

This transition back to Madagascar time has been the roughest of all my international travel; for some reason it took me well over a week to adjust!  It is beyond frustrating when you find yourself wide awake and ravenous at night, while during the day you can hardly keep your eyes open with no appetite at all.   In the past it’s only been a few days and I’ve been fine, so I am not sure if I can chalk this one up to getting older, or what.  I often try to have a day layover in Europe in the middle of the journey, which helps me to not only adjust to time but also get my head from one world into another; I didn’t have that this time, so maybe I will need to make that more of a priority next time!

Anyway, besides jet lag, it’s been wonderful to be back. It is amazing how comfortable I find myself speaking French to the market stall lady arguing over twenty cents for some oranges or the taxi driver in the ancient vehicle that starts up by winding two wires together and touching it with the third one.  The weather in Tana is absolutely delightful; dry, cool at night, beautifully sunny blue skies all day and not swelteringly hot. 

I have so much more to share but will leave it at that for now.  AFM family, may the seas be kind to you, I will see you soon!

Today's workspace; Antananarivo, from the balcony of my guest house.

--k

There and back again.

Well hello, virtual friends, family, new followers, acquaintances, and blog stalkers - glad to see Blogger hasn't shut me down for inactivity!  

I've been away from the ship for the longest time since joining, and it has been quite a ride.  Since leaving the ship on May 10th, I've taken nineteen flights, been in eight different countries, had ten speaking engagements, ate at least half a dozen cinnamon/caramel rolls, and hugged, adventured, and laughed with  dozens of friends and family in four different states.  I was on TV and I was in a wedding and I went kayaking with seals and saw a Broadway show. I started my Masters degree, and have managed not to fail out in the first few weeks.  

I've started at least a dozen blog posts and haven't finished a single one. We'll see in the next few minutes if this one actually gets 'published' status. :-) 

I'm currently in the Minneapolis airport, having started my journey back to the ship in my hometown of Duluth.  Well, I have to take that back - plans were that I would journey back to the ship.  However, as they often do, plans have changed - and I am in fact journeying back to Madagascar while the ship is not actually there yet - it is... still in Durban, South Africa.  They have been quite delayed with some problems discovered while the ship was in scheduled maintenance over the (northern hemisphere) summer break.  I'm not entirely sure what the problem was but it was something to do with the propeller, which is rather important (or so I am told).  The good news is the ship is floating again and will be heading to Madagascar in the coming days, so I will just start my work on the ground until they arrive.  

So anyway, all of that to say, I plan to get up and writing again, so thanks for joining me here.  A special welcome to anyone 'new' who I met in various speaking engagements this summer - very much appreciate your visit to my little virtual soapbox. :-)  If you are looking for information on donating, click on the big green DONATE button to the right.  Feel free to email me at krissyonmercy dot gmail dot com if you have questions, or just comment on this blog post. 

Okay that's enough for now.  Except for a few (of many many many) photos, because everyone likes photos. 

Road trip to Coffee City. Where there is no coffee to be found. But a memorable trip, anyway. 

My friends are freaking gorgeous. Blue stripes for the win. 

My niece is pretty stinkin' cute too. 

Me and the newest nephew at the wedding I was privileged to be a part of. 

Bridget was a bit more excited about dancing than Avery was. 

Alive.

~ Sitting in the setting sun of Antananarivo, thanking God for all He had done in that country… and all there is yet to do.

~ Crunching through the yellow fallen leaves on a crisp fall day in Pretoria, and remembering how pleasant it is to not be hot and sweaty all the time.

~ The gracious and extremely warm greetings and welcome from the government officials, even going so far as to walk out on to the street to help us find the office.

~ The excitement and passion expressed by the participants as they explained how the training they received on the ship in Pointe Noire has completely changed their practice, has helped countless patients, and has been eagerly adopted by their colleagues.

~ Excited smiles, squeals, kisses, hugs, and laughter as we reconnected with friends who fully expected to never see us again.

~ Story after story of patients’ lives saved and nurses lives transformed thanks to our investments, words, trust, love, and calling.

~ Exploring a new city in beautiful sunshine with a dear friend.

~ The best brownie in the history of the world, warm with vanilla ice cream and an espresso… enjoyed with a favorite friend in a favorite city.

~ An enthusiastic welcome by colleagues, strangers and friends alike.

~ Waking up on a Sunday to green beauty and birdy songs, coffee and puppy cuddles.

How does one summarize the last six weeks? In those moments where I felt the most alive.  It was incredible.  There were plenty of other moments; moments of frustration or disappointment, of anger, of fear, of doubt, of utter exhaustion… but when I look back over the last few weeks I find those moments fading to the background; the ones that remain are the moments of beauty, of redemption, of joy and love and life to the full. 

I’ve made it to Texas; the land of wide open spaces and hamburgers and really fast freeways.  Last night I finally slept through the night so I’m hoping that means I’m officially over jet lag and can return to full functioning; though my current level of sleepiness indicates otherwise.  Somehow the stories of the last few weeks will be organized into words on paper and in pages and on blogs; while I enjoy the little things like grass and whole grain bread and new faces and open spaces and cinnamon rolls. 

It sure is good to be alive. God Bless America.   --k

The coming weeks.

Here's my schedule for the coming weeks:

Tomorrow I get in a car for a four-day road trip to the interior of Madagascar to follow-up with Peace Corps Volunteers who did the HBB training.

I get back on Saturday night and then head out Tuesday morning to fly to Fianarantsoa and for two more days of HBB follow-up.

I will fly from Fianarantsoa to Antananarivo, where I will meet up with Michelle and we will both fly the next day to Mahajanga where we will follow-up Checklist training.

We will both then return to the ship on Friday evening, unpack and repack, and then travel back to Antananarivo on Sunday.  After a quick overnight, we leave together to fly to Johannesburg, South Africa where we will get the necessary visas to go to the Republic of Congo.

Thursday, visas in hand, we will fly from Johannesburg to Pointe Noire, where the ship was docked for the last field service, 2013-2014.  We will spend time in three cities over two weeks in Congo, every day packed full with supplementary training, follow-up, and visits - trying to determine if what we did there in pioneering our Healthcare Education program actually left an impact. 

After two weeks in Congo, Michelle and I head to Berlin where she speaks at a conference and I will be madly writing reports for the end of the Madagascar field service as well as the Congo trip.  We will also explore a bit and hopefully have a few hours to breathe after a full on, non-stop several months.  Then I have a brief layover in London where I bid Michelle goodbye for a few months and then head through Madrid on my way to the Mercy Ships International Operations Center in Lindale, Texas, where I will spend a few weeks working from dry land while the ship makes its way to Durban, South Africa for the annual shipyard maintenance period.  It's been three years since I have been there, so it will be a great time to reconnect with team members and friends from that side of the pond.  Then, finally, I will head to Minnesota, to Seattle, to Colorado, and to various other yet-to-be-determined locations before eventually making my way back to Madagascar to begin the second field service in Toamasina.

Phew. 

It's a strange end to the field service - I've sailed away from Sierra Leone, Guinea, and Congo field services onboard and this time of year is usually one of sadness tinged with hope and a season full of goodbyes.  This year I'm leaving long before the ship does and when I return the ship will be in the same place I left it; almost as if nothing has happened. 

One of the joys of ship life though is not only am I trying to get massive amounts of work done and papers ready and supplies packed for the next several trips but my home will be sailing... twice... in the time I am gone, so I have to secure everything for 20 degree rolls in the open sea, find people willing to care for my plants, and toss any food that will expire while I am away.

I had a moment today when I actually stopped and thought, "I live on a ship.  How weird!" Yes, three years in and those moments still happen.  I love what I get to be a part of and I hope to be able to post updates from time to time; but at the same time don't be surprised if you don't hear from me either! 

Thanks for your support and encouragement!!  --Krissy

To the table.

It’s a beautiful moment when somebody wakes up to this reality, when they realize God created them so other people could enjoy them, not just endure them.  ~Donald Miller, Scary Close

 ~~

Awhile back I was hosting a team and we were all planning to go out for dinner. I was feeling lethargic, uninspired, burdened, tired, and all around uninterested in going to a restaurant with a dozen or so other people. I couldn’t possibly expend the energy required to put on shoes and face a crowd.  I blamed it on being tired; I blamed it on my introverted personality; on a long week, on too many people, on whatever else I could say to convince myself it really was okay for me to skip dinner.

 

Then a dear friend saw beneath the surface, and spoke the truth.  A truth I didn’t even realize was truth until she said it. I think you are doubting that you are wanted.

 

She left the room and I dropped to my knees, the truth of her words burrowing deep and conviction confirming that which she somehow knew to be true. I had made an agreement with a fallacy; somewhere along the line I had become convinced that I was simply a burden, an irritant, a nuisance.  Who was I to join a bunch of doctors for dinner? I wouldn’t offer anything worth saying, I couldn’t possibly think that I would actually be welcomed into that crowd, I would probably just make a fool of myself and say something stupid anyway.  I didn’t have anything to bring to the table. So why go?

 

Recognition is key. Recognition is freedom. Recognition meant I could intentionally pursue truth and life to the full and put on some shoes and go out to dinner, regardless of how it felt or what I heard or what I believed.

 

The end of that story is that dinner was beautiful; the conversation rich and the blessings flowing from me to them and back to me again. The end of my story is yet unknown; with the greater questioning lingering in desire - a desire to know that I have something to bring to the table, regardless of the size of the table or the venue or the company surrounding it, but how do you walk in that without crossing over the hazy gray line into arrogance and pride?

 

As I wrestle with that question the words of a dear friend come back to me; his response as I asked this very same question several years ago. The very fact that you are asking the question indicates you won’t cross the line.  A truly arrogant person wouldn’t even ask the question.

 

~~

In the book referenced earlier, Scary Close, Donald Miller also talks about one of the things he loves the most about his then girlfriend/now wife:

 

She truly knows she is good for people.  It’s not arrogance, nobody who knows Betsy would think of her as prideful.  Yet she knows that when she gets close to somebody she will likely make their life better.

 

Sigh.  I want that.  I want to know to the depths that because I speak and breathe life and God is in me that just by coming to the table people will see Him.  

 

I’ve mentioned this to a few friends in recent days, and they all say the same thing.  And I think, what? You? You think that too??  You are amazing! You have SO MUCH to bring to the table! How can you not see that???

 

And they say the same about me.  But neither of us know it in ourselves, both of us cringe at the thought of facing that table of strangers but both of us longing to know with conviction that who we are and who we carry in us will, and does, and delights, in affecting those around us… for good.

 

~~
 

As I watch the cursor blink for a few minutes and wonder what words will come next, a flicker of a story drifts through my consciousness.  I believe, help my unbelief.  Someone said that to Jesus once; I find myself saying it again today.  I want to know and believe, to the center of my soul, that I have something to bring to the table; I want my friends to believe it; I want us all to believe it. 

 

Because you know what? You do.

You have life to offer and so do I and there’s something about courage and something about being brave enough to step out in faith and something about trusting that when all rolled up and lifted up leads to that place my heart longs to go… to the table, to blessing and being blessed, to being enjoyed not just endured, to resting in the beauty of relationship and a shared meal or a shared heart and a shared pursuit of life to the full.  

 

 

Dreams to Reality.

I’m back in my ship home after ten days up in Antananarivo; the days have been full and challenging yet fruitful, with strategic meetings about medical training programs for the next field service in Madagascar mixed in with running current healthcare education programs and trying to measure the impact of what we have done.

It’s exciting work – there was a moment this week when I came alive in a way I haven’t ever before. After three days of teaching pediatric anesthesia we took a day to invite the previous participants from the obstetric anesthesia course we held back in December to return and tell us how the course impacted them; their personal practice as well as their hospital and teamwork.  If I’m really honest I wasn’t expecting much; I mean, I hoped all our blood, sweat, and tears over the last two years of moving this medical training program from dreams to reality actually has left an impact but it’s hard to really know for sure.  Well, I had the opportunity to ask those questions, and the answer was a resounding YES, your training has affected me, my practice, my hospital and my patients. 

Incredible.

One anesthesia nurse who attended learned newborn resuscitation for the first time, and then everyone in his hospital saw that the babies he was delivering were all healthy, so they asked him to train them, too.  He did.  Now everyone there knows how to resuscitate a baby well and according to him, in the last three months at least a dozen or so babies that would have died are now alive.

Another anesthetist explained how the course taught her she needed to have a backup plan ready when putting a patient under anesthesia, in case plan A didn’t work.  When I asked her what she would have done in the past, she explained that if plan A failed everyone would be yelling at each other and trying to find the equipment and supplies for plan B while the patient was deteriorating on the table.  Now she has everything she needs, and a plan in place, and she is calm and ready to handle the issues.  She told me that others in her hospital saw how she did this, and how much better it was for her and for the patient, and asked her to teach them, too.  So she did. 

So many of the people we talked to said the most important thing they learned was to ask for help.  “I believed I had to do it on my own” is the common working environment here, and the freedom and encouragement to ask someone else to help them has left a huge impact not only on them as individual practitioners but also on their hospitals and colleagues; several comments were made about how now people in their teams communicate better, people know what they will do and what needs to be done, and the stress of saving a life is now a team effort, not balanced on the shoulders of one person who feels out of their league and overwhelmed with the expectations.  

They learned how to systematically evaluate and stabilize a patient; they learned how to respond to life threatening conditions with accuracy and confidence; they learned how to use specific tools in a better way and they learned how to communicate with others more effectively.  They didn't only just learn these things, though - they applied them, saved lives, and taught others how to do the same.  I could barely contain the tears as these stories flowed out of their mouths and I hastily scrawled what I could on my paper questionnaire; with French and English and excitement and joy all melding together into chicken scratch that is pure gold. What we do here really does make a difference.   

Somehow in the coming months this will all be written up into reports and papers and press releases; we find ourselves pioneering once again as we try to figure out how to measure success, and then to get their stories out into the hands of people of influence and favor and means and the courage to try and do something about it. I can’t even believe I get to be a part of this; I’m honored and grateful and humbled and excited to see where the coming weeks and conversations and travels and meetings bring us in the journey of making even more dreams into reality.  It was once just a dream that a hospital ship could bring hope and healing to the forgotten poor.  That dream became reality.  It was once just a dream that it could also bring world class medical training opportunities to those who are most in need.  That dream has become reality, too. It is still a dream that it could be a catalyst for transformation of an entire national health system.  That dream can become a reality.

Let’s do it.

Our SAFE faculty - from England, Canada, USA, Belgium, Ireland, and Kenya. What a privilege to partner with these incredible people to bring dreams into reality.  (Photo courtesy of Steph B)

 

Transformation: Safe Anesthesia

Anesthesia [an-uh s-thee-zhuh] n. --General or local insensibility, as to pain and other sensation, induced by certain interventions or drugs to permit the performance of surgery or other painful procedures.

I don't think anyone would disagree that anesthesia is pretty important in surgery.  Yes, they put the patient to 'sleep' so they don't feel the pain of surgery, but they do much more than that. While the surgeon is focused on fixing the problem; removing the tumor, repairing the defect, or releasing the contracted skin, the anesthetist is keeping them alive  - making sure the patient keeps breathing and the heart keeps beating and the blood keeps flowing, adding more when necessary.  They also handle critical events during the surgery - if suddenly the blood pressure drops, or the patient has an allergic reaction to something they were given, or various other life-threatening situations, along with the important job of making sure the patient wakes up!  (medical friends, please forgive the simplistic description!)

But what if you were an anesthetist who knew you had to handle some of these critical events, but didn't have the skills or materials to do so?  What if you knew you would be okay if you had an adult patient, but a child appeared on your operating table?  Anesthesia is consistently one of the top requests for training in the countries I have served with Mercy Ships, and continuing anesthesia training is often unavailable in these areas.  So we have partnered with the Association of Anesthetists of Great Britain and Ireland to offer two SAFE Anesthesia courses - SAFE stands for Safer Anesthesia From Education - and we offer SAFE Obstetric Anesthesia and SAFE Pediatric Anesthesia.

SAFE Obstetric Anesthesia was held in Antananarivo back in December, and I meant to write about it then but never did! We taught basic anesthesia skills and critical care for pregnant women and newborns.  The participants were so excited to have the opportunity to learn new skills and refresh their abilities using our teaching materials and manikins, and we received great feedback on the course.  We will be inviting some of those participants back this week for some supplementary training and to see if they have been able to apply what we taught back in December!

SAFE Pediatric Anesthesia is this next week so I find myself now back in Antananarivo, excited to welcome the facilitators for this course who are coming in from the US, Canada, England, and Kenya!  It's such a privilege to come alongside the anesthesia providers of Madagascar, offering them hands-on workshop teaching where they can practice what they are learning and hopefully improve the care they are able to offer to Madagascar's littlest patients. 

Preparing for the course - a table full of anesthesia equipment!  A few years ago I wouldn't have had any idea what any of this is... now I can name almost all of it, and most of it in two languages!

Worth the Risk.

"Something in me believes that when the story of earth is told, all that will be remembered is the truth we exchanged. The vulnerable moments. The terrifying risk of love and the care we took to cultivate it. And all the rest, the distracting noises of insecurity and the flattery and the flashbulbs will flicker out like a turned-off television."  Donald Miller, Scary Close

~~ 

Heart-to-heart: [hahrt-tuh-hahrt]

     1. [adj]  frank; sincere: We had a heart-to-heart talk about his poor attendance.

     2. [n]  Informal; a frank talk, especially between two persons.

~~ 

I looked up this phrase and was so disappointed with the definition.  Frustrated, even, that the human race has degraded something as beautiful as heart-to-heart connection to something frank, and informal.  How pathetically inaccurate that we have reduced a connection of the heart (which is the wellspring of life, the center of all we are and have created to be, the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit and the central reservoir of all things glorious) to talk about something like attendance.

Can I tell you what a true heart-to-heart is?   

It's one of those conversations that you feel an ache deep inside at the thought that it will soon end. 

It's when you've opened up not just your mouth to state that which is obvious, as we do in every interaction; but you have opened up your heart to show that which is unseen, and often ignored, but is in fact vital to the experience of joy, of friendship, of love and truth and trust and life to the full.   

It's one of those interactions that somehow leave you full to overflowing and yet hungry for more; more time with them, more of whatever that was that we shared because it was so beautiful and just felt so right.  

I've had the privilege and the honor and the abundant blessing to have four or five such interactions in recent weeks.  All completely different people, in different situations and places and subjects and settings but each of them left me aching for more and yet utterly filled up; they left me hugely thankful but also wondering... what was that? and how do I get more of that?

That, my friends, was a heart-to-heart.  A true mingling of love and life and truth and trust and vulnerability and that is actually what we are made for.

 

~~

Vulnerability leads to intimacy. And we are created for intimacy. This is not a scary word, this is for everyone.  We’ve degraded the word intimacy like we’ve degraded the words heart-to-heart to mean something entirely less than what it truly means. Intimacy doesn’t just mean “what married couples do behind closed doors”, (quoted from a teenager friend), it is:

Intimacy: [n] [in-tuh-muh-see]  A close, familiar, and usually affectionate or loving personal relationship with another person or group.

Sigh. Do you feel the longing in you? For that? I think if we are truly honest, that’s what we all long for. It’s what we were created for, in reflection of the perfect relationship within the trinity – Father, Son, Holy Spirit.  Perfect intimacy.

But you have to be willing to be real.  You have to be willing to get emotionally and metaphorically naked and hope they don’t laugh at you or run away screaming.  And that, my friends, can be terrifying. 

~~

The risk of being known is also the decision to be criticized by some... but if we live behind a mask we can impress but we can’t connect.* 

Those conversations I talked about earlier, the ones that left me longing for more yet full to the brim… that feeling? That feeling of being known and yet still loved and delighted in and encouraged and utterly not alone? That’s worth the risk.  Those people aren’t impressed by me. Goodness knows I’ve tried to impress plenty of people in my day and yes, it does give a temporary high.  But those people know that beyond the face and the voice and the words that impress there is plenty of pain and gunk and ugly words and thoughts and actions and stories. And they still want to be with me. And they say things like thank you for helping me to know that I am not alone. 

Yes the risk is there… that belief or reality that if anyone really knew what was inside of us they would leave us.  But as someone quite wise pointed out to me just yesterday when I was discussing this very real possibility in one of my friendships, she said if someone chooses to abandon you because you are pursuing truth and honestly and life to the full… say thank you, and let them go.  Those aren’t the true friends you really want.  The true friends you really want to be doing this with? They will love you through it.

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Sometimes the story we're telling the world isn't half as endearing as the one that lives in us.*

I’m a good storyteller. People tell me often that I’m a good communicator or a good writer. I know it’s true (in my strong moments… not so much in my insecure moments… but by His grace those are getting few and far between…and thanks for telling me, really).  I know it’s a gift from God and I’m absolutely desperate to use it for His glory and His glory alone. I used to tell a lot of made-up stories just to impress people.  And that felt good for a minute but then after a while it left me feeling awful.

 

Now I tell real stories to connect with people.  And that’s a whole lot better.

 

*quotes from Scary Close by Donald Miller.  One of those books I was sad to finish.