My Heart: An Invitation

I’m coming to a place where I can say that I don’t understand. I don’t understand why I believe that God is real. Or that Jesus is my Savior. Or that the Bible is truth reflected in language. I simply don’t know understand, except that I do.

Maybe I can’t explain it in empirical terms, or with linear evidence—but that’s the beauty—God is so much bigger than all of that. He exists where my mind simply can’t comprehend except to say that I feel His presence and simply understand that He is everything and more.

One of my favorite songs even challenges—“I think our God isn’t God if he fits inside our heads” demanding that we remove God from our western, linear, boxed mindset and let him be King and savior instead of limiting him to a pew on Sunday morning. While I may be made in the image of the divine, I am certainly a long way from fulfilling that destiny—something that probably can’t be achieved this side of Heaven, but I do believe that we are created for amazing things. We are created to create, accomplish, discover, heal, love, believe, sing, and grow into the people he has given us the possibility to be. We are created for amazing things—how else would we have Michelangelo? Mozart? Martin Luther King, Jr? Jane Austen? Mary Shelley? Maya Angelou? How else would we be able to create songs, to write words that hang with a powerful tension in the air, that rise and grow and build to the point of a near religious experience—if it were not intended for us to do by God? How else would we be able to write, to speak, to create works of fiction and personal revelation with an eloquence that belies our shortcomings if not for the purpose that lies within us like a seed planted from the hand of God?

I may not know much, I may not even really understand the truth when it hits me in the face, but I don’t think anyone has it all figured out. It is enough for me to love, be loved, and believe. And in this, I have grown to a place where I know I have a purpose—a mission, an intention, and reason for being here. I have a heart for artists—for the writers, musicians, painters, scholars, and dancers—who have been called and created by God to be extraordinary, but who, for many reasons including doubt, fear, and lies, have not yet found their voice in a world of other loud, hurtful, and unloving voices. The purpose of art is to inspire, to love, to shake, and to reflect divinity. I believe we all have that in us. But have not yet found our voices.
I think I am finding my voice. And this is my purpose: To restore and uncover the songs and stories of the voiceless.

On some level, I’ve known this all along. It’s why I am a teacher. It’s why I sit and listen to whoever will talk at me. It’s why I lead a group of aspiring writers and artists on Monday nights—instilling avenues and confidence where there was not before.
I’m in love with this book called Walking on Water: Reflections of Art and Faith by Madeline L’Engle. In it, she asserts that we all are created in the image of God, and by extension, we are creators and meant to create life, love, and art on this earth. My heart leapt at the idea—this is why we have this insatiable desire to make things, to try things, to create, to experiment—because we are being taught how to be like our creator. She also says that God’s children have always been capable of the divine—that we should be able to walk on water just as Jesus did—if only we could remember our purpose and remember our image.
And that’s what I’m doing—I’m walking on water. I’m leading and teaching a group of young people how to be creators, I’m in front of classrooms of students telling them they can write, and create, and express themselves, and I’m recalling the divine within my own being. But the hard thing is that not many of us can learn to walk on water on our own. We need to be taught, we need modeling, we need encouragement, and people around us to say, “step out of that boat” as Jesus said to Peter.

And I’ve realized how I’ve come here. My Church family, my little cohort of Sojourners who have promised to help me find my sea legs. My church family is a beautiful, dysfunctional, multigenerational conglomeration of people who all happen to show up on a Sunday morning, but who also love me unconditionally every single day of the week. Just this past week, one of the elders told me he would pray for me that I found a teaching job in the cities. Another young woman has been praying for the writing group that dreams would be realized. My pastor gives me a creative outlet whenever I need, and encourages my musician husband to explore his art both spiritually and socially. We are welcomed in to people’s lives—in good times and bad. We are sought out to pray and be prayed for. We have seen miracles and pray for even more. It’s not perfect, but then, nothing is really. That’s how it should be, so that we’re always trying to grow and seek God more and become more like him.

My church family has encouraged me to explore what God has for me, and what he wants me to do on this earth. They have believed when I couldn’t even think the word. They have a vision for the twin cities to see lives changed and potentials realized. And I am a product of this vision. I am a product of unyielding faith that Jesus, when welcomed into a heart, can make all things possible.

I have been taught to love. I have always loved—my family, my husband, my friends—but really, to love is more than that. Again, that same song quotes, “I think our love isn’t love unless it’s love to the end” and that’s so true. I have been taught an eternal love that doesn’t stop at shut doors, miles apart, petty fights, differences in opinion or background, or even at the choices people make. Jesus loves to the end—it’s why he died for us, and continues to die for us each and every day as his mercy is constantly pouring out on us. I am learning to be more like Jesus. To create in a world that would rather destroy and consume, to love those who won’t necessarily love me back, to walk in His footsteps when others laugh or think it’s weird, to be fulfilled in the purposes he has for me.

In that, I am so thankful for my church family. The vision of the church is something so powerful—so transforming—I entered as a nominal believer and am now ready to fall on my knees every day and thank God for the powerful transformations he is making in the people around me and around campus. I’m writing this not so that you would spontaneously believe yourself, because faith is anything but convinced or contrived, or so that you would give to the ongoing church need, because I believe God will meet all those needs in His way. But, I’m writing this so that you may consider knowing me better, learning the dimensions of me that you may not have fully understood before. I want you to know all of me and love all of me—especially this newly vocalized part of me that longs to help people create and fulfill their creative potential.

Sunday, March 29th, my church is having a Friendship service where we’re inviting all our friends, family, and past members to share our vision and what God has been doing in the group. There will be a presentation of need as well, as we are a desperately underfunded church, but that will be for former members and adults mostly. The main goal is just to share what we’re about and for people like me to share with their friends what they’re about and how we’re growing into the roles and purposed God has for us. I would love for you to come, just to see how and where I’ve grown, and the vision that has captured my heart to see artists and writers and all sorts of people realize their voices and their creative potential.

The service is at 10:30, at 310 18th Ave SE, Minneapolis, MN parking in the 4th street ramp is free on Sundays. There will be a meal afterwards and lots of time to chat. I would love it so much if a handful of friends could come—I desperately want to show you ALL of me—not just the parts of me that you know from high school, the music community, or from college—but all of me. I want to talk with friends and family and share the stories that are happening as a result of the church’s vision and how they’ve supported me. If you have any questions, please ask, and if you can’t come, that’s just fine too. It won’t be weird and no one will pressure you for your money or your commitment—the goal really is for our members to be able to share themselves and the vision with the people they care about who don’t go to the church—think of it like a “Jaci’s heart open house” :)

Love always,
Jaci