Many of my readers know me personally. Many do not.

For those of you who know me, you would probably describe me as someone who does a lot of stuff.

You would be correct.

I’m one of those people that does a lot of different activities but never really finishes anything.

Towards the end of last year, I started to realize that there was something very wrong with the way I was living. I was trying to find my purpose in all these different areas and none of it was going very well.


I used to follow this blog where the author talked about purpose. He purposed that in order to know your purpose in life, you need to go back to your early years. Like the earliest year you can think of. What did you want to be?

I ran through the years as fast as I could. Writer. Actress. Zoo keeper.

I got to about age 3 when I remembered.

I wanted to be a church. A literal church. I wanted potlucks and community. I wanted stained glass windows and teachings on Sunday. When I was young, my mom took me to this small church. It was old, with dull paint and harsh lights. It was wonderful.

When I got older, I ditched children’s church and went to the adult service with my parents. (For a season, my family went to church.) I took notes in my little journal and tithed change out of my coin purse.

I loved church. It was my favorite place in the world.


Recently, I was chatting with friends and we all came to the conclusion that purpose, in its truest sense, is actually pretty painful. It’s a deep burden.

If you’ve followed my blog for any amount of time, you know how deep my desire is to plant a church. You also know that despite my love for the church, I have endured quite a bit of suffering when it comes to the church. If this is my purpose, Satan has done everything in his power to steer me away from it.

But I have a tenacious spirit and a conviction on my heart.

3 weeks ago, I was sitting in my car, wrestling with God, when I finally let go. I said I was done fighting with Him.

My purpose became clear.

I’m supposed to plant a church.

I don’t know how that’s supposed to happen but all I know is that it will.

If you read my earlier blog posts, you know how hard I have struggled to be loved by God. Somehow, ceasing to wrestle with God has allowed me to trust that He loves me.

It’s given me the freedom to make sound choices. Say no to things that don’t matter.

It might take 20 or 30 years but I will plant that church.

2017 was a year of rest. It was a year of play and fun. 2018… It’s time to hustle.


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