I love Natalie’s story.

When I hear Natalie’s debt-free story I think to myself anyone can do this. I’ll let Natalie share her own journey, but what I find so remarkable is she didn’t have a special job with a special income. She was making probably the same amount that most of her peers were in the same season and she paid off $30,000 in debt in 2 years. WOW!

It has been so fun to celebrate with her and share her story with others – she truly “hustled” and put her whole heart into this journey and today she is an aspiring photographer without any debt. For most of us in our 20s opening a business is almost impossible – when our loan payments are demanding upwards of $300/month, it’s really hard to get off the ground. But Natalie is so ready for this.

(Not to be biased, but she is one of the best photographers I’ve ever seen/worked with. She did Travis’ and my wedding and we were blown away by her talent and eye. No seriously, she made our wedding look “green” in North Dakota (we don’t have any trees). Check out her website and hire her! https://bauer-creative.com/)

Note: When Natalie refers to a “spending fast” she is referring to the resources offered in this book, which helped her on her journey. I hadn’t heard of it until just recently, but it seems like a resource worth checking out if you’re looking for some structure in your goal-setting and method!

Initial Debt: $30,000

Time Frame: July 2015-July 2017 (her 25th birthday!)

When I turned 23, I set the far-fetched goal of being debt-free by my 25th birthday. A friend of mine had made and met the same goal, and she inspired me to shoot for the moon, too! Fast-forward two years — and with a lot of blood, sweat, tears and prayers — I was officially debt-free on my 25th birthday!!

So… how did I do it?

I embraced a mindset of competition.

I’m not naturally competitive. But a few months into my Spending Fast, I knew I needed to leave behind the pity party I had thrown for myself. I needed an attitude adjustment. So, I made it a game. Instead of bumming out about all the things I couldn’t spend money on during the month, I made it a competition with myself to see just how much I could scrape together and throw at my loan balance. Selling things, working odd jobs, and finding ways to whittle down my (already bare) expenses became FUN!

I got creative.

I was making a very modest salary. Deciding to move back home with my parents and pay them a small rent payment helped my expenses, but I still wasn’t working with much. So, I got creative! I babysat, dog-sat, donated plasma, sold possessions, shopped for necessities at Goodwill… the list goes on. I forced myself to go through all of my “extra” makeup before I could buy anything new. I rented books and movies from the library. I love photography and graphic design. So, I honed those skills and turned them into a legit side hustle for me, which is now my legit business! Think about cultivating skills that you can use to make money on the side, too!

I prioritized self-care.

A Spending Fast is NOT for the faint of heart. If you are thinking about embarking on this or currently are doing so, you are a BADASS. It’s hard. It’s more than worth the struggle, but it’s tough. Like our relationship with food, our relationship with money is very emotional. Restricting your spending brings up buried beliefs about money from your childhood (whether healthy or unhealthy), makes your social life a little more complicated, and frankly, not being able to spend money to make yourself feel better sucks. Take care of yourself. Choose to see it as a fun self-discovery experiment to discover how to enjoy life sans money.

I spent a lot of time at the library. Tried new recipes. Made thoughtful gifts instead of buying expensive ones. I found that buying my special coffee creamer and my favorite whole bean coffee was just as enjoyable as stopping at Starbucks. I gave myself grace when I had hard days (Days when I wanted to say “Screw it!” and storm the aisles of Target!).

I learned what really brings me joy.

Before my Spending Fast, I was the average 20-something girl, spending money on a social life, wardrobe, hobbies, food, and plenty of impulse buys at Target. Then 365 days of no impulse buys really refined my “palate”. What do I REALLY enjoy spending my hard-earned money on?! For me, an iced latte from Starbucks DOES give me a lot of joy. It’s a treat I savor. But that cute dress from Target? Nah. Another floral coffee mug? Tempting, but nah. Now if I don’t LOVE something, I leave it. I know I can make my money work even harder for me and bring me more joy.

I surrounded myself with inspirational resources.

I bookmarked the And Then We Saved blog on my computer and joined the Facebook group! I listened to podcasts, read books, and generally just surrounded myself with encouragement. You need it – because the process can get lonely if you’re the only one in your family/friend group doing it. My number one recommendation would be to dive into Dave Ramsey’s resources. Get a budgeting app such as EveryDollar or Mint, so you know exactly where your budget stands day-to-day.

I also met with a CPA to look over my loans, income, and expenses. She made an amortization schedule for me that factored in the interest on my loans – giving me the magical number I’d need to hit each month to be debt-free in 24 months. Once I had that number, I swore a little under my breath and then worked my personal finances around it. If I had a month with some unexpected expenses (which happened often, don’t be dismayed), I made note of the new total I needed to reach each month, with that extra tacked on. Usually, after a few months of a little bit higher payments, I was back on track. The number ended up being 65 percent of my take-home pay each month. I still was able to pay my basics… and not much else!

Now when I DO spend money, I really appreciate it.

Now, going out for dinner is a treat. Coffee is a treat. Buying a new lipstick? Makes my day. I enjoy those indulgences WAY more than I ever did before my Spending Fast. It’s a level of appreciation you only can experience if you force yourself to go without for a while.

Trust that the process itself, although often uncomfortable, is molding you into a more content, appreciative, creative version of yourself. Not to mention, your self-discipline is going to be off the charts. Now that I have all of this experience under my belt, I know exactly how to make my money work for me. When I decide I want to save for a house, or a trip, or a new car, I feel SO empowered to wield my income like a sword to get me what I want, pretty damn fast.

Make a plan, stick to it, give yourself grace when you stumble, and enjoy the process! YOU CAN DO IT!

I never thought I’d be passionate about debt.

I’ll never forget sitting at a college football game with my dad at 20-years-old. He had a napkin in has hand and was trying to paint a picture of my financial future, which was looking grim. He wasn’t the disappointed type or even the nagging type – but he could see something I couldn’t. I was racking up debt in the tens of thousands of dollars at my private university and I was radically indifferent to the number. I had enough other things to worry about – making friends, working internships, and finding fulfillment – worrying about debt could wait. Besides, none of my friends ever talked about it either – it really didn’t seem like a big deal.

I recently looked up some statistics on household debt and found that this mindset of “carrying debt” isn’t just limited to me and my friends. According to an extensive study done last year by “Nerdwallet” (which is referenced by almost every major financial column):

“The average household with credit card debt has balances totaling $16,883, and the average household with any kind of debt owes $137,063, including mortgage.”

It shouldn’t be surprising that their report begins with the line “Debt is a way of life for Americans…” A way of life. It is how we structure our finances: with debt, around debt, held back by debt, afforded opportunity by debt. Debt is quickly becoming something we’re hardly even ashamed of.

Take for example the 2016 election. We heard speech after speech about healthcare and social issues and immigration and abortion. But the one topic that never even came up in a single debate between Clinton and Trump? The $19,000,000,000 in debt that they were about to inherit and what their plan was to reduce it.

Perhaps even more startling is that the majority of American people didn’t even seem to care. Just so long as the debt is being spent on issues we believe in, it seemed we were indifferent to whether the debt remained, shrank, or grew.

Back to the football game. On the left sits a man who will retire with a more-than-comfortable salary at 65, on the right sits a kid who’s hoping to scrape by the minimum payments working a job that fulfills her dreams. Of course I hadn’t thought about retirement – I wasn’t even thinking about 22 yet.

Fast forward two years and a slightly-older-kid who finally pulled up her academic bootstraps. I was no longer skipping class and taking out extra loans for “fun money.” But I still graduated with $42,000 in debt and a degree that would never make that much in a year. I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to do but felt like God was telling me to get out of debt by my 25th birthday. (I reference God here not as a way of sounding sappy, but because it truly took a force that powerful to help me make a decision that would affect something more than a week from now). Long story short, I did (I’ll tell the longer story in a later episode) and in hindsight that little sidestep in my career path was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

It was a decision that literally brought me to the wild west and an adventure I couldn’t have written myself. And at 25 I had the financial freedom (and wisdom) to do just about anything I wanted. (Which is good because about a year later a shaggy-haired missionary would ask me to move to Asia with him as his wife).

I wanted to write a series about a few friends I know that chose to take on this courageous battle and won in more ways than just debt freedom. I want to tell you about Tom & Katie – a couple who paid off $100,000 in school loans in just over 2 years as an act of sheer determination and commitment. My friend Natalie who paid off $30,000 by her 25th birthday working a desk job in Minneapolis. And my (now) husband Travis who bought a pair of Carhartts and work boots and took the ugliest job in the oil field to pay off $15,000 in 8 months.

The 5 of us have almost nothing in common (we’re from different cities and all have different degrees from different universities) but we all made a simple decision to make our debt a priority. While many of our friends were out in the job market looking for a dream job, we were out looking for paychecks in fields we didn’t study. We washed dishes, walked dogs, cleaned oil tanks, inspected buildings, took side jobs and said “yes” to things that felt unfamiliar. (And “no” to a lot of things that did…)

And before any of us turned 30 we were already putting our extra funds towards saving and the future – not debt and the past.

I’m writing this not as a subtle way to brag about myself or my friends. I truly think getting out of debt is one of the best decisions anyone can make and sometimes hearing a success story you can relate to is enough of a nudge in the right direction.

Yes, each one of us put our dreams on hold for a few years, but I can tell you (because I’ve already read the next 4 blogs) that not a single one of us regrets that season of life. In fact, most of us are thankful for it and the unorthodox lessons we learned from it. (I literally didn’t know people eat their steaks at different temperatures).

If you feel stranded or stuck in debt (or know someone who is), I want to encourage you to read through this series and believe that you could have a similar story. There is absolutely nothing special about the 5 of us that afforded us this opportunity. We all took that simple first step of saying “I can do this, what’s it going to take?”

I chose to name this series “The Debt Rebellion” because the very act of being rebellious is choosing to defy an expectation. It would be “normal” for you to be carrying student loan debt, a car payment, a mortgage, and some credit card debt. But as I look at my friends who are debt free I see a freedom I don’t see in others. They say yes to things others can’t, they take risks that others really shouldn’t, and they take adventures and pay for them with cash.

We’ve written this series together and even prayed that this is a value our generation will adopt. We believe that anyone with a willing attitude and determination can dig themselves out of debt and be living in the black in a few short years.

Why not you?

…stay tuned…

I’ve been pondering the question of “heroes” lately.

In a time where division seems to be the norm, it appears our definition of what it means to be a hero is a bit ambiguous. Some people find every person in a military or police uniform a hero worthy of a salute and a thank you. Others might see those same uniforms as the villain, while heralding the protester marching down the street with the sign. Perhaps your hero is the transgender adult who finally had the courage to share what he’s been hiding for so long, or maybe it’s the dad who takes the leadership role in his family and is unapologetic about his traditional views.

But I wonder if it’s not so much what a hero looks like, but more what a hero does. What traits do they possess? What sets them apart from the cultural wave that, though ever-changing, will always represent what’s popular?

(This is where I wish I was an actual social psychologist with time and money to research these things in great depth. But alas, I’m just a 28-year-old who thinks too much and sometimes writes about the things I think about. Feel free to proceed with caution).

I asked my husband this question last week – “what do you think it means to be a hero?” After a few minutes of thinking (he’s an introvert), he said this: “I think the bravest person is someone who does something they don’t want to do or something that is hard for them to do.”

We talked about it for awhile and eventually got to the topic of origins, how we all begin. We agreed that we must start with the simple and basic idea that we are all born entirely and utterly selfish. Cute maybe, but completely selfish. I want something – CRY UNTIL I GET IT! I liked this thing yesterday but I hate it today, TANTRUM! A baby, and even a child, has a very limited ability to perceive the needs of those around them – even more so to act based on the needs of others. We are born with the sole desire to see our own needs met.

The good news is, we don’t stay this way (though we can all probably think of one person who never grew out of it..). But I think an inward look will show each of us that this mentality is somewhat of a default setting. We don’t simply grow out of our selfishness as we age, we need to learn how to think about others and do hard things. We need to learn to make decisions that might benefit others more than it benefits ourselves. And that doesn’t come naturally to us.

In my opinion, the real heroes are the ones that excel in this area. The ones that will sacrifice praise for purpose. Personal advancement for communal advancement. Justification for reconciliation. These are hard things to do.

To me, being a hero is less about what you do for a living and more about your willingness to fight your inner selfishness.

Last year I was flying to somewhere in Asia, and the movie American Sniper was showing on the flight. I really enjoyed the movie, and it seemed to me the main character, Chris Kyle, was projected to be the ultimate hero. And I agree, I think he was a hero. But maybe not for obvious reasons.

If you look at his career stat sheet he is probably one of the most skillful snipers in American history. In his four tours of duty, it’s estimated that he recorded anywhere from 160-300 kills of potentially dangerous terrorists. He earned several military awards and went above and beyond his commitment to the Navy Seals – committing to return to the Middle East for extra tours of duty.

None of what’s listed above came easy to Chris – every morning he woke up he put his life on the line for his country, and perhaps that is worthy of the title “hero.” But I saw heroism in another part of his story. The film shows his times at home between tours of duty, and we see a very different man. The confident sniper looks like an out-of-place dad who can’t seem to find his rhythm. He’s lost his connection with his wife and he doesn’t know how to focus at home. You can tell he longs to be back in the fight, where he knows exactly what he’s supposed to be doing. Where he’s good at what he does.

And at first, that’s exactly what he goes back to. In one scene you see his wife begging him to call it quits but he just can’t. It’s the only world he feels comfortable in and he’s desperate to get back to it. Though his requirement has been fulfilled, he volunteers to go back – with no guarantee he’ll survive and make it back home to his family.

But eventually he does make the decision to hang up his boots. Even though his skill set still remained one of the best in the world he knew it was time to start living his life for the needs of his family. He goes home to do the hard work of rebuilding his relationship with his wife and getting to know his children. Perhaps no history book will list that on his resume, but to me that was so utterly…heroic.

Chris died an untimely death doing something unremarkable by military standards – helping guys with PTSD transition back into the real world. For a guy that spent years of his life within the grip of death, he died on a sunny day helping the very person who would end his life. But he died with kids that had a relationship with him. He left behind a wife that knew her husband loved her and was willing to lay down his career aspirations to be the husband he committed to be for her. That’s heroic.

We live in a generation of professional athletes who ask to be traded because they don’t like their team or their coach or their salary. Many of the superstars today are so much more concerned with winning than growing. Maybe they’ll go down in history with untouchable stats and a case full of trophies, but I wonder how that attitude translates into their personal lives. I can’t imagine a thriving marriage when one member’s primary concern is being the star.

When our greatest concern is ourselves, we’re crippling our potential for a truly meaningful life.

Perhaps if we were more concerned about fighting our selfish nature and not so concerned with our personal advancement, the world might be a better place.

Our headlines wouldn’t be so full of negativity and scathing reports of current events. Maybe we’d have more storytellers than critics. We might stop pointing the finger at everyone else and instead ask how we are contributing to the problem at hand. Maybe if we started asking that question these hard-drawn lines would be easier to cross.

Martin Luther King Jr. is known as one of the greatest heroes of our time, and I believe rightly so. Armed with his Bible and unrelenting desire for his justice, he sought to see African-Americans rise to their rightful and equal place in American society. But he didn’t do it the easy way. He had every right to fight back with the same weapons waged against him. I can’t imagine the anger he must have felt inside, seeing what was being done to innocent people simply because of the color their skin. Victimized by those who had no interest in knowing anything about them.

It’s hard to choose just one quote by MLK Jr. that shows his commitment to doing hard things, but this is one of my favorites:

I can’t imagine what it was like to be in his position in the 1960’s, I don’t know even how I could. But this idea of loving his enemies and wanting them to become friends, guys like George Wallace (Segregation now! Segregation forever!) and James Earl Ray, was so revolutionary it would be impossible to produce leaning on human strength. This could only come through a lifetime of self-death and hard choices. This is an ability that no one is born with.

And this is one of the reasons why I love Jesus so much. I’m not always good at sharing why I think Jesus is worthy of my whole life, but his strength in my weakness is a huge part of it. I lived a selfish life for a long time and had no interest in fighting it. It led to a life of misery for myself and frustrating times for those who had the patience to stick around me. Encountering Jesus not only made me want to change, but gave me the power to. I’m still a selfish human being and see myself leaning towards that default in almost every decision (just ask my roommate, even though he’s probably too humble to tell you). But His strength in those times when my desire to promote myself was so tempting has helped me run from cowardice. And in the process run from a meaningless life.

I long to see a generation of heroes rise up, those who are willing to do hard things. Things like ask for help. Say sorry. Forgive those who aren’t sorry. Take themselves off the pedestal to help someone else get up there. Put their families and communities ahead of their careers.

We all love a good story, and I think this is where most of them start.

You don’t need to qualify for the Olympics or become a firefighter to be a hero. People who do those things might be heroes, but I think to be a hero is to show up to the fight that rages inside all of us. That ever-present desire to choose what is best for us.

What’s a simple way you can go to war with your inner selfishness today? It doesn’t need to be something dramatic, but why don’t you start there?

I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately.

I had the total honor of hosting my family in Taiwan last month for ten days and it was everything I hoped it would be. Living 7,000 miles away from my sisters and my parents is easily the hardest part about living in Taiwan (they should feel honored that they sit above “intense humidity” on that list). But I didn’t realize how hard it would be to say goodbye, knowing I won’t see most of them for over a year – and I’ll be towing a little 6-month old that they’ve never met.

I had to watch in pictures the next week as they celebrated Laura’s 30th birthday and my niece’s first and all I wanted to do was curl up and do nothing all day.

So that’s what I did, for a few weeks.

Sure I went to Chinese class three times a week, but other than that I would sit around my apartment watching Netflix or following basketball trades online. I’d scour Instagram and Facebook for hours trying to get closer to the home that I miss so much. For some reason I thought this was a reasonable and quick route to our furlough next summer.

But the days felt so long and I felt my heart growing more bitter. I complained that it’s because I don’t like learning Chinese and my life is bound to be terrible until I can do something more suited to my gifts and passions.

As far as pity parties go, this one was a rager.

I had a roommate in college who was an extremely talented musician. She was trying to finish up her senior year of college so she decided that in order to make time and gain focus she needed to give up music completely. She put her guitar away and stopped singing in order to spend more time on homework.

It didn’t take more than a few weeks for her to be completely miserable and depressed. Rather than studying, she would watch Netflix all day and sit around in her pajamas and occasionally even skip class. Not only was she miserable, her depression was a dark cloud over our house – it affected all of us. We eventually had to have a “care-frontation” (Steph Williams-O’Brien™) just to help pull her out of the slump.

By seeking to create more time, she drained her heart of what filled it with passion.

We are created for purpose, it’s the fuel that drives our lives. Some fortunate people find that purpose at their desk – their job makes a difference and it doesn’t even feel like work to them. I’ve sat in that seat once or twice.

But some people earn their paycheck doing something that doesn’t naturally bring life. It can be draining to spend 8 hours a day doing something that doesn’t really rev your engine.

But what my roommate failed to realize, and myself lately too, is that whether or not our passion is our full-time job, we still need to invest in it. A rare few people work 16 hours a day and sleep the other 8. Most of us have a solid 4-8 hours outside of work to spend on something else. (The moms are thinking, oh just you wait Rachel).

Yesterday I rode my little moto-scooter up to the library at the University behind our house. They have a massive library and the 8th and 9th floors are strictly English books. These two floors have probably twice as many books as the Williston library. I took a break from studying and was perusing a few of the shelves. I quickly grabbed a pen and paper and started making a list of books I want to read before Baby K arrives. I went back to my desk and finished my homework with an hour to spare – enough to start reading a Maya Angelou classic that’s been on my list for a few years.

I came home when the library closed and instead of turning on the TV, I pulled out a puzzle for my husband and I to work on. We had a nice quiet evening listening to a podcast and putting together a Disney puzzle.

But here’s the strangest part: I studied more Chinese yesterday than I did in the last week combined.

The problem was not what I was doing at work, it’s what I was doing when I wasn’t at work.

There are several things that I really enjoy doing – reading, writing, cooking – to name a few. These are things that if I actually start doing I can get lost in for hours.

And the more I let myself do these things the more productive I become in other areas of life. 

I even cleaned my house last night and finished a few little projects I’ve been putting off for weeks. I felt empowered because I was fueling my passions in my free time. Even if I only had a spare hour a day, I could still get some gas in the tank by reading a few chapters or whipping up a batch of muffins.

I don’t think we have any idea how much time we spend on the internet or watching TV letting our day pass away. It makes us tired and lazy. I think it’s the reason we scoff at our alarm clock in the morning, even though we blame it on our impending work shift.

I finally took Instagram off of my phone and will probably do so with Facebook soon too. And without even realizing it, my homesickness has weaned off. Rather than spending hours watching others live their perfect American lives, I’m creating a life of my own in Taiwan. One that my son is going to step into in about 4 months. I find myself thinking of ways to make my own story better, instead of sulking in the fact that it’s below average.

What fuels your passion? What floats your boat?

What doesn’t?

Do more of the former, less of the latter.

“So why are you living in Taiwan?”

I get this question a lot. It’s usually one of the first questions Taiwanese ask when they meet me, and a question I’ve had to answer a hundred times to family and friends back home. It’s a fair question, one I should have a simple answer to by now – but I can’t help but tense up anytime someone asks.

If an American asks me, I instantly feel inadequate – as if I should be doing something more adult-like and career-driven. If a Taiwanese asks me I suddenly feel like a salesman they should run away from. (You’re living in my country simply to try convert me to your religion?) Now, to be fair, these thoughts are probably a lot more prevalent in my mind than the person who asked, but sometimes I feel like it cripples me from just being myself.

I remember a few years ago writing my first support letter to do my DTS in Taiwan. I felt so awkward asking people to fund my trip to Taiwan, when I didn’t even know what sort of things I’d be doing over there. I knew Taiwan was 4% Christian, but I wished I had a more tangible mission. In some ways I was mad at Travis for not picking a more “philanthropic” location. Why can’t we go to Africa so we can say we’re working with poverty or with orphans? How about a refugee camp? Who’s going to judge us for that?

Not too long after that I read a story about a missionary and his family who had been killed in a car accident. This young Minnesota family had been preparing to go to Japan for the last several years and on their way to their final training in the U.S. their vehicle collided with a semi. All 5 of them instantly went to be with Jesus.

I found the link to the blog he had kept during this season of preparation. This man had such a passion for Japan and the people there and had committed the rest of his life to sharing the gospel with this unreached nation. And in his latest blog post he did exactly the opposite of what I was trying to do. He clarified that no matter what kind of work they would be doing in Japan, kids camps, orphanages, etc – the most important thing would be to share the gospel with them. He didn’t mince words, he didn’t hide his true mission behind good deeds – he made it clear that above all else the gospel needed to make it to Japan.

Taiwan is a first world nation. They certainly don’t have the incomes that most people do in the States, but we don’t see a lot of poverty here. Familial commitment is one of the highest values in Chinese culture (for better or for worse) so we don’t see a lot of orphans either (at least compared to other Asian countries). Most young people will go to university – perhaps an even higher percentage than the West.

Truly what we’re dealing with is spiritual poverty. A nation of people who have a long list of gods they pray to for blessings. Broken family relationships that can often be a source of pain rather than safety. Young people who don’t have a plan or hope for their future because they’re not sure why they were placed on Earth. All symptoms of a nation that hasn’t yet known Jesus.

We are here to share the gospel with them – the Good News that Jesus already came and He is waiting for them to surrender and join His kingdom family.

Last week I was struggling to understand why God called me to be a missionary. There are a thousand other things I could be doing with my life, that would be much easier to explain to others. Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m doing this.

But then it occurred to me – God understands exactly why I’m a missionary, he’s not confused at all.

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

And some day when I stand before Him and give an account of what I did with my life, I won’t need to feel awkward at all.

And with joy I realized how much I would rather have an awkward time explaining how I’m spending my life with other people than be fumbling over my words and giving excuses in the presence of the Almighty God.

I don’t say this to mean that being a full-time missionary is the only acceptable vocation to God (that couldn’t possibly be true), but I think the bigger question is – are you ready to explain your life to God? Is the way that you spent your days something that will make perfect sense to Him? Was it dripping with Kingdom goodness and vision?

I recently got a renewal notice for my website.

I pay a fee each year to have my own domain and an upgraded design and apparently in August I need to decide if it’s worth the investment for another year. I sighed, thinking to myself: I don’t really write anymore. I’ve probably penned 2 or 3 blogs since last August and I often can’t think of much to say.

But it got me to thinking of why I don’t have much to say. This is one of those seasons of quiet and shaping – not much for explosive revelation or exciting life lessons. Learning to live in a new country and study a language full time doesn’t often produce the kind of stories I wish to write. Perhaps not long ago this would’ve been cause for alarm in my chosen direction – I’ve always wanted to be a person of impact in all seasons. And I certainly wouldn’t use that word to describe my role in this season (unless you count me slamming my fist into my Chinese textbook from time to time).

A friend of mine sent me a book a few months ago that was about exactly what I didn’t want, but needed to hear. The simple and short book is called “Anonymous” and it talks about an often avoided subject of Jesus’ character. It’s easy for us to think of Jesus’ public life and ministry – that 10% of His life that fill our gospels with stories. But we forget that 90% of His life was lived as a simple carpenter in obscurity. We have 3-4 short stories from the first 30 years of His life, and from then on He would only live 3 more.

Jesus spent 90% of His life in quiet obscurity.

I’m sure the majority of His early days weren’t full of miracles or abundant fruit. They probably looked a lot like sitting at His carpenter’s table and being on time for dinner most nights.

But in those quiet days, God was shaping and molding Him for what was to come. He was training Him to defeat the devil in the desert. He was preparing Him to shun political power when it was offered by many. To take that dark and lonely road to the cross, when everyone was telling Him to give in.

I’m trying not to live my life as if I’m supposed to wait for something better to come along. Of course I wish I could choose a handful of other circumstances, but that’s not God’s best for me in this season. Sometimes you just have to learn to show up, even if people don’t notice you’re there.

Lord, teach me the beauty of anonymity.

I recently got a bicycle from my friend Mike.

It feels like these two wheels have revolutionized my journey to class. I put “to” in italics to emphasize the major hill I get to glide down all the way to class. It takes me less than two minutes to get from my door to the door of my classroom. The trip home isn’t quite as spectacular, it’s actually quite laborious to get my bike up the hill! I can usually make it about a third of the way up the hill by riding and walk it up the rest of the way.

Yesterday I was forcing the pedals up the hill as dozens of moto-scooters zipped past me. As I was laboring and sweating my way home they were cruising effortlessly. And as I stepped down to walk I felt God show me a simple picture:

Doing kingdom work without the Holy Spirit is like riding a bike up a steep hill – just about impossible and a tremendous waste of energy.

Even after my last post about prayer I still felt convicted about unnecessarily bearing the brunt of the labor. This morning I was reading in Acts 9 about Peter and Cornelius – when Peter showed up at Cornelius’s house all Peter had to do was share the gospel message. Cornelius was ready – the Holy Spirit had done 99% of the work!

So today at lunch I brought this encouragement to my team meeting. I challenged them to cover their friends and ministries in excessive prayer, letting the Holy Spirit do the bulk of the work. We each shared a few names of friends we want to see Christ and prayed that the Holy Spirit would go to work in their hearts.

I had to duck out early for class, but I quick asked them to pray for an opportunity to share the gospel with my teacher who is not a Christian.

When I arrived at class my teacher wanted to review a few things from the chapter I just finished. To be honest, I was a bit frustrated because I wanted to move on to the next chapter – not look at the last one! She asked me to read aloud the story on page 183.

(Keep in mind this is the official textbook of several universities in Taiwan, it is not a Christian textbook!).

The story was about an old man traveling on a journey who encounters a stranger. The stranger asks him if he’d like a letter of introduction – in Chinese a “介紹信”. The stranger tells him he can take the letter and go to “一個最好的地方” – which directly translates to “the best place” or to “one of the best places.” He takes the letter and begins his journey to “the best place.” Along the way he is met by a robber who steals all of his possessions, which the man freely gives. He explains that he cannot surrender the letter however because he needs it where he is going. The robber demands he give him a piece of the letter because he wants to go there as well.

When they arrive at their destination, the same stranger who gave the letter to the old man is waiting at the entrance to the beautiful place. The old man hands him his letter of introduction and is allowed in, but the robber is not accepted because he did not have a letter of his own.

As I finish reading the story I realize what it’s about! It was Jesus who gave the letter to the old man and Jesus who was receiving him at the gate! This letter of introduction came from the only One who could ever give it! My teacher started to ask me a few questions and let me tell you the Holy Spirit breathed Chinese into my mouth. I was able to share in CHINESE about Jesus and how we all need a introduction letter from Him to enter heaven. It was the most simple but powerful picture and it went straight to her heart.

I finally asked her: “你有介紹信嗎?” Do you have a letter of introduction?

She said: I don’t know, I know who Jesus is but I don’t have assurance.

Do you want one today? You can have one, Jesus is ready to give you one – all you need to do is ask.

Yes, today I will ask Jesus for my letter of introduction.

And then she prayed the most beautiful prayer in Chinese and received Jesus in her heart.

It was like zipping up a hill on a moto-scooter. The Holy Spirit did all the preparation, I just delivered the message to a ready recipient.

PRAISE GOD! And Holy Spirit may you come alive in this nation!

March is one of my favorite months.

It’s around this time we get our first signs of spring. Snow melting, birds chirping, snow melting again (if you live in late-blizzard North Dakota), and of course: pre-season baseball.

But for me March holds deep meaning. It was in this month 8-years ago that I said yes to Jesus for the first time. I was probably in the deepest pit of my life and made perhaps the most unfair trade in history: my pathetic life for His righteousness and Spirit. Here’s a copy of my rookie card:

(I’m a bit embarrassed to confess how long it took me to create that on google docs — PS rookie cards in Christianity aren’t actually a thing).

Last week someone asked me how I came to that point, the “I give up” moment in my life. It’s not the most polished answer, often we don’t realize something is happening until it actually happens.

But to be honest it was a million little things and two big things. The first was a professor. I was required to take his class for my major and unlike other classes I could not afford to get anything less than an A. I was on academic probation and one more slip up would send me back home. So I sat in the front row, left my laptop at home and took notes by hand. His course was Life & Teachings of Jesus and I was hoping it would be an easy class.

It wasn’t.

But it’s not that it was academically hard. This class was painful for my heart. I realized this figure, so central to the religion of my upbringing, was a complete stranger to me. I had always viewed Him as one-part disappointed and one-part fun vacuum. I wasn’t interested in sacrificing much, but I figured if I played by at least some of the rules I could squeak into heaven.

But as I read through the four gospels for my homework assignments I started to wonder how I had constructed such a false image. He didn’t come to enslave, but to liberate. And his liberation would lead to freedom of the soul, not cultural chaos. He had a plan to redeem the nations and anyone who was willing to surrender to His will. Jesus’ life set in motion a plan to bring light to all of this darkness and life to everything that was dead. This gospel could actually transform the worst of human beings, even me.

It occurred to me that I didn’t actually believe in Jesus at all. Sure I was a social activist, but I didn’t have any sort of direction other than the cultural breeze.

I realized that Jesus and I wanted the same thing: to see broken things restored. And for perhaps the first humble moment of my life, I realized that He had a better plan than I did. Though my pride was still coursing through my veins, I could actually admit His chances of getting us there were slightly better.

I mentioned earlier that there were two things that got me to this point of realization, and to me the second is of far more value than the first (no offense, Dr. Eddy).

What he was sharing with my brain collided with what the Holy Spirit was doing in my heart.

A lifetime of selfish decisions, insecurity, and fear had built up a fortress around my heart. The wall was impenetrable by anything less than God – not even a great professor or loving friend. Yet He moved on behalf of prayers of many faithful friends and created a small crack in my fence. For the first time these words of truth had a path into my heart.

The weight of my sin and my lifestyle became unbearable. My tried-and-true methods of happy chasing began to fail and I could finally see how empty I was. I knew I couldn’t last much longer in my current direction. This Man I was learning about promised there was more – and it was time for me to figure out what that was. I guess you could call March 29th, 2009 “Day One.”

In these last 8 years I’ve had ample opportunity to share my story(s) with all kinds of people. And more often than not I’ve seen people unmoved or uninterested. People walking in painful misery, yet unwilling to believe or hear my message of hope. It’s never been that easy.

Because though I can share the gospel – perhaps even compellingly, I cannot pry open a heart. That is not even on my “8th season” card.

I remember back in 2010 I met this tall girl named Abbie. She rarely smiled and often seemed withdrawn and tired. We met in July and that very night, God put her name in my heart and asked me to patiently pursue her in friendship. I agreed and prayed for her, hopeful of what she might discover in Christ. I thought for sure I had what it would take to bring her to Christ. It took but a few weeks to realize I was out my depth.

On the rare occasion that she would return my messages and agree to hang out with me, we could never get below the surface. Any time I’d try to ask her questions about her personal life she’d quickly clam up and change the subject. So I went to my knees in prayer every morning, praying for an opening. More months passed and our conversations deepened – not by much, but six words is better than zero.

Finally on the morning on October 29th, I got the text. There was a crack in the fence. I skipped my next class and drove over to her dorm, anxious to hear what was going on. She too, was fed up. She didn’t know how to get out of her lifestyle, but she was finally willing to open up about it. Her journey was messy and at times very dark, but I got a front row seat to the Holy Spirit’s liberation of her heart.

Today I don’t know if I know a more joyful person than Abbie – and if you know her, you’re probably nodding. That once sullen girl now lights up every room she walks into. My phone is full of encouragements from Abbie, mostly Bible passages.

But it wasn’t my words that led Abbie to Christ, it was the Holy Spirit drawing her in. It wasn’t until I started praying for her that any movement could be seen. Without God moving on her behalf I’d still be trying to share the gospel with her.

I say all these things because I’m reminded again how powerless we are without the Holy Spirit. Maybe we can create temporary change or even install knowledge in someone’s head but only the Holy Spirit can transform a heart eternally. Yes I am called to share the gospel – not just with “my life” but with actual words. But to go into battle without the Holy Spirit is like stepping onto a raging battlefield with no armor or weapon.

In this current season God has asked me to pursue another woman, one who openly lives in violent opposition to the gospel. She’s confessed to me on several occasions how miserable her life is but when I bring up Jesus she changes the subject. We’re stuck above the surface and I’m often frustrated that it’s so difficult. But I’m continually reminded that I do not possess the necessary strength or tool to crack open her heart.

I’m shifting my focus from hopeful conversation to radical prayer. My words are powerless unless the Spirit makes a way.

Lord, please make a way.

Who are you “stuck” with? Do you pray for them? Do you beg the Holy Spirit to do what you could never do alone? You should try it. And when it doesn’t work, don’t give up. Elijah prayed 7 times before the rain came and Joshua marched 14 times around that wall before it fell.

I’ve actually met Brian Dozier twice.

The first time I met Brian was in Fort Myers, Florida in 2012 (if you can call it that). My sister, mom and I had just arrived for a game at Hammond Stadium, the Minnesota Twins Spring Training facility. Laura had a baseball and we waited outside the locker room for the players to emerge before the game. Most of the players walked right past us – Joe Mauer, Justin Morneau, Denard Span…I told Laura we should just move on and find our seats. But she waited, and eventually some minor leaguer who I had never seen (and would probably not make it through spring training) came up, grabbed her ball and signed his name on it. He thanked her for coming to the game and jogged to catch up to the rest of the team.

She was elated to have any sort of autograph and I rolled my eyes, now seeing a perfectly new Twins baseball marked up by a player we didn’t recognize. She scanned through the pre-season magazine and eventually decided the B…..D…. signature must be a hopeful infielder named Brian Dozier.

Fast-forward 4 years later and this unknown infielder made headlines as the first AL second baseman to ever hit 40 home runs in a single season (he’d end the season with 42). He is without a doubt the best player on the Minnesota Twins (which perhaps isn’t saying much) and probably the best second baseman in the American League.

This past summer I celebrated my bachelorette party at a Twins game. It was a beautiful night and we notched a (somewhat rare) win. After the game a few of the players set up a “faith night” – an opportunity to hear them share about their faith and testimonies. As a Christian it was incredible to see some of my favorite players talk about how for them baseball takes second place to Jesus. Dozier took his turn on the microphone not to share his testimony or an inspirational speech, but the gospel. Unashamedly he stood in front of the crowd declaring Jesus to be the only way to know God and the most important decision you could ever make in your life. He invited anyone who was compelled that night to surrender their lives to following Jesus.

(If he wasn’t my favorite player before that night, he certainly was now!)

About 3 months later, I was scrolling through my Instagram feed and saw that Brian Dozier had posted a picture of himself and his wife on an airplane with the caption: “Headed to Taiwan for the MLB Taiwan ambassador tour!”

Wait…what?

(PS my husband and I live on this small island in east Asia that most people can’t locate on a map called TAIWAN)

I jumped off the couch and interrupted Travis while he was studying to tell him the great news. He nodded, looked at the picture, and went back to work. (It’s a cool coincidence Rachel, but what are the chances of actually meeting him?)

Travis, we need to meet him! We need to find him and hang out with him!

(I learned at this point how it feels to be the recipient of the eye roll)…

I sent Brian and his wife a message on Instagram offering to take them out to dinner or show them around the city. We didn’t get a reply, but I wasn’t giving up! There was no way my favorite baseball player could come to my obscure country without me at least trying to meet him.

I found an article in Chinese about his appearance in Taipei and sent it to three friends to translate it for me. They couldn’t really make sense of it so I kept digging. Finally I found an address…not a time or even a place, but an address. So I grabbed my husband and my baseball jersey and hopped on the train for an adventure with a hopefully happy ending.

We got off the train and started scouring the streets for any sign of a baseball clinic. We sat on a bench after looking for several minutes with no leads. Travis zoomed in on his map and it seemed we were standing in the exact place where Brian Dozier was supposed to be. But we were looking at a normal sidewalk with no traffic. Finally, Travis turned around and saw a crowd about 50 yards away – could they be listening to Brian Dozier?

We hustled over to the plaza and sure enough, there he was! I ran to the side of the stage hoping to connect with him when he finished (perhaps that security guard was taking a bathroom break). After his interview he climbed down the stage on the other side, but caught sight of us as he turned around. I waved my hands in the air like a total idiot and he smiled and waved us over. (It’s not every day you see a Twins jersey in Asia).

He asked us if we were the missionaries who sent him the message and apologized for not responding. He said the tour had filled every minute of his time and he and his wife regretted that they didn’t have time to grab a meal with us. We spoke for a few minutes and then we asked if we could get a picture with him (because my mom would never believe I met BD in ASIA!). He said “sure, can I get one too?”

To top off our cool story, we woke up the next morning and found our picture on his instagram!

My favorite thing about baseball is that the game is never truly over until the final out. It’s not bound by a clock and there’s no limit on how many runs you can score in an inning. A team could be down by 30 runs with one out left in the game and still win. It’s the beauty of baseball.

Just like my sister Laura didn’t give up on an autograph or I didn’t give up on meeting Brian Dozier – some of our best stories come from pushing past adversity. To seeing failure as an opportunity to reassess our strategy or our route. And never believing it’s over until it’s truly over.

Thanks Brian – GO TWINS!

This past weekend Travis, my dad and I took a “choose your own adventure” trip to the East Coast of Taiwan.

We literally packed a bag, boarded a train and had not a single plan for the entire weekend. Usually these scenes in movies are sexy ones, the wrong turn leads them down some glorious and unpaved road to the best weekend of their lives. And though our hopes relied on these odds – we spent most of the weekend missing buses and losing stuff. For starters, Travis left his phone on the train – only realizing it after it had departed for the next station (we still haven’t recovered it, though we hold out hope). After waiting a couple hours for a tour bus to bring us back down a mountain, we reached our destination without Travis’s kindle. We arrived back at our hotel only to realize there was no vacancy that night and we had missed the last train home. And to cap off a long day of miscues, I left Travis’s backpack at a bus station – yes, it contained his MacBook Pro and his passport.

We took a taxi back to the bus station and caught our first break of the weekend – his backpack was still there and nothing was missing. By this time it was 6 o’clock and we hadn’t hardly eaten a thing all day. We decided eating would probably be a better prequel than a sequel to finding a hotel on New Year’s Eve, so by the time we took a cab into town, found a restaurant, and filled our empty stomachs – it was past 8 o’clock. We grabbed our bags and started to wander through town in search of a few empty beds. And then the rain came. Not just a drop of rain but an all-out downpour. Some might say a “gullywasher”.

Quickly we ran for cover under the awning of a storefront, wondering how long it would be before we could walk in this. It was already dark and we’d be lucky to find one room for the three of us. A college-aged girl saw our plight and offered us some parkas from her family’s lottery shop. As we fumbled to get them on over our big packs the girl nervously asked us in broken English if we needed a place to stay for the night. Our 3 heads shot up in unison and hung in the air a second or two before I fumbled out the word “YES.” It turns out the rain had landed us right in front of an apartment that was rented out by the night. We got two luxury-style rooms for less than $100 total and I think my dad was snoring within 10 minutes.

I didn’t make it to midnight, but as I prepared to sleep after a frustrating and dead end day I realized the last day of 2016 looked a lot like the whole year. For more days than not this year I wondered if I was going to make it to bedtime without having some sort of emotional breakdown. Moving to Taiwan felt like losing everything I had spent the last 4 years of my life building in North Dakota (except for Travis, of course). I rarely felt confident or passionate, known or planted – yet God came through every time, revealing Himself at just the right moment.

Our wedding was a reward to a long season of waiting and traveling and changing. In the midst of such change & loss, Travis and I were able to celebrate everything God has done so far – with so many of the people He has written into our story. People we never knew we would need, champions who played such simple but vital roles in our journey.

And now it’s time for new characters. Not just to be in our story, but it’s time for us to be characters in a new set of stories. People we hardly know – and maybe haven’t even met. Building something from scratch is laborious and not quickly rewarding. You have to make choices about the simplest of things – like leaving the house or asking someone you like out for coffee.

But I know we serve a God that shows up, that delivers before it’s too late. He might not fight for all the words in the middle, but He will definitely get the last. We can smile about 2016 because at the end of the day we want to remember how and when He came through on His promises, not revel in the minutes we felt we wasted waiting. He can use it all – and I have no doubt that He will.

Cheers to 2017!