I happened to read today’s devotional with a friend. She laughed while we read. She laughed because this very day I am due to move to another city myself, and prior to reading the day’s devotional had been lamenting that I didn’t think I had anything to say.
After much procrastination, I’m writing this at a Shanghai airport. My plane leaves in about an hour.
I arrived in Shanghai five and a half years ago, full of hope for a fresh start. I can’t say I came bravely because I wasn’t really scared, I was excited. I wanted a fresh start. I wanted to be in a new place with my family and no one who knew about the previous year. I wholeheartedly believe that God drew us to this city and our obedience allowed us to be blessed in all manner of ways: friends who loved us in ways I didn’t realise was possible, kind pastors who lead us and taught us, unexpected opportunities to grow our faith and service, rich cultural experiences, and passionate educators for our children.
However, in addition to the many ways we were blessed, I’ve also experienced some of the greatest heartbreak and sorrow I’ve ever experienced in all manner of ways.
Leaving Shanghai and returning to Switzerland is a step of obedience. Not following an instruction to move, as Annie F. Downs remembers in today’s devotional, but rather something else. Seven years ago I felt God asked me to love the way Jesus loved, to love as Jesus would if he were in my place. I said yes. And the seven years since I’ve had opportunity after opportunity to practise. I could have stayed in Shanghai. But it wouldn’t have been the most loving thing I could do.
Those who know all the details of my story might call me brave. I don’t feel brave. I feel sad. I grieve what I’m losing. I walked through my neighbourhood today and wanted to say goodbye to everyone: the man who worked in the tech store, the hairdressers, the grocery shop ladies, the guards at the gate, the man who takes out the garbage. It’s not just my close friends I will miss, I will miss this whole life.
But I know I must do this. One step. One step. One more step.
For me, there’s no alternative: I made a promise seven years ago to the One who loved me first. I give this ‘now’ up for something greater; not the hope of blessing but the assurance that I’m growing in the right direction, in love and in submission to God.
I give up my life to follow.
In my head it’s scarier to stay where I am and not grow in what God has for me.
So, shortly, I will step towards the departure gate. And step towards the aircraft. And step into Europe. And step in to my new life. One step at a time.
Today was laced with courageous women.
I wish I was at liberty to share a glimpse into the details of their bravery as I believe you would find yourself to be awe struck, convicted and encouraged by what you might hear~ as I am. Simple stories of relentless love, perseverance and sacrifice that seem to defy gravity ~ no cape required.
It is 6pm, the house is now quiet and my heart is simply bursting with all the conversations that have occurred over the last 9 hours.
In front of me stands one of the bravest woman that I have ever known. She is tidying up the kitchen and talking to her cats with a gentle smile of satisfaction on her face.
Her invitation didn’t get ignored this time.
They did show up and were on time.
They laughed together and she was finally given the opportunity to share the home she had built with them.
Sometimes extending the invitation is brave.
Maybe it’s always easier to see bravery in others, rather than ourselves? I’m glad you got to see it and hear it. I hope this devotional helps us see the bravery in ourselves too as I feel we often unappreciate it, or don’t even notice it
I feel like living life is a mixture of bravely taking a step, time spent contemplating, and saying no. In the past year, I’ve felt brave, taking steps that caused me to catch my breath and challenge my comfort zone. I remember that those comfort zones were once my places of uncertainty. I love looking back and seeing His handiwork. He’s always been faithful.
I agree Jamie! When we look back we see how our hesitant steps of courage added together to take us somewhere better. I’m glad you can recognise your own bravery. Maybe that’s what gives us the courage to be brave next time? Love Tifainé
There have been a couple of times in my life where I have been told I have been brave. But sometimes we don’t believe it to be brave, just a necessity and a duty. Being kind to ourselves takes courage. Putting ourselves first takes courage because of the overwhelming guilt and the feeling of letting others down. Taking time out for ourselves, putting faith in God that he will care for us, is also brave.
I know just what you mean, Steph: what others see as bravery in us maybe just us doing what we feel we have no alternative but to do. Until we’re in that situation we don’t know what we have the courage or stamina to do. I think putting our faith is God can be one of the bravest things we do, not because he isn’t worthy of that trust but because of how other people react when they find out. You are certainly a brave woman in my estimations! Love Tifainé
Yesterday’s reading said that brave was sharing your story, and I guess I never saw that as brave. I just saw it as real and authentic. And as I reflect today on brave being the places of faith, obedience, and surrender, there are a few God stories that come to mind These were never places that I saw as bravery. I simply saw them as obedience and surrender to my best Friend, faithful Companion, greatest Love, and dearest Father. I simply saw them as living in pursuit of Jesus.
The first would be where my God story begins. I was the girl at every alter. I loved Jesus with all my heart, and I wanted to glorify him, live for him, work for him, be with him. Everything. I was all in. Yet there was always something that came between us. There was a hidden and dark place in my life that I tried to keep buried and hidden, and it was a source of shame and bondage for 3 years, getting worse and worse. It was something that I would repent for, something I knew was not wholesome or good. It was not Philippians 4:8. And every time I fell into the enemy’s snares, I would come crawling back to God with shame and guilt. And he would whisper, “Of course my child. I will always forgive you.”
It seemed to be like any other camp service. The preacher was calling for people to come up, and I was ready to go as always, but there was something different that night. Instead of it just being a, “I’m going up there because I want Jesus,” it was more of a, “I NEED to be up there, but I don’t know why.” Almost on cue, the preacher said, “Some of you don’t know why you are here, so ask the Lord.” So I did. And as clear as day he said, “Give me what you do when you are all alone in your room.” That was the night it broke. But it wasn’t just because of the surrender. The pastor closed that night admonishing us all to find someone to confess our sins to, to testify what we laid down that night. And I guess that was the point of bravery, but it was also the point of freedom, as I found someone I trusted to confess all the details I could muster the strength to tell. And I truly left that camp forever changed.
The second was in college. I was in love with my childhood friend. We had known each other since third grade. And it just so happened that we went to the same university, and it just so happened that his parents decided to take graduate classes at the university. I basically lived at their house on the weekends. And the elementary crush became a freshman in college crush. It was bad. And I do not hide things well at all. I thought I was hiding it. I wasn’t. It was clear as day. I loved Jesus, and I wanted Jesus to make us a thing, but I also knew that I had a path set. I knew my trajectory, and I tried to fit him into that plan as best as I could.
The summer between freshman and sophomore year, I went to Cambodia. I taught at a school and experienced for the first time a glimpse of what I had felt called to do my entire life: teach overseas. It was magical in so many ways. Then when we visited an orphanage, God took that to an even deeper level because I knew (this being a part not yet unfolded in my life) that orphans were deeply tied to my heart. And it was another one of those clear as day moments, a line in the sand, a choice that was brutally hard but completely obvious for my Jesus loving heart. He said, “This is what I have called you to (orphans and education). You can have it or him (the childhood-adult crush).” It broke me in all the right ways as I surrendered the desire for marriage and for him that day (We are still friends, but things changed and became healthier). Without that surrender and total acceptance of Jesus and nothing else, I never would have met my husband because I would have remained completely blind to the people God had already placed in front of me. That is another story for another day.
Finally (especially since this is probably way too long and open already), the day everyone else called brave, but I once again, only called excited obedience. This one didn’t hurt the same. My husband and I had been waiting for 3.5 years to go to China to teach. And when the door opened, it swung wide open. We knew it was our window of opportunity, and so many called us brave for selling everything and moving here, but it didn’t feel brave. It felt right. It felt exciting. It felt like obedience. Were there painful goodbyes? Yep! But it was more sweet than bitter.
But I think that is exactly Annie’s point. The choices of obedience, surrender, and faith could be considered brave. We all have stores of giving up dreams, waiting on God, sacrificing our desires, stepping out in faith, facing the unknown. In the middle of it, it simply feels like moving forward with God. But maybe His love makes us brave.
Megan, sorry not to reply on the right day, I thought I had but the my comment is nowhere to be found. Thank you for sharing your stories. You are certainly a woman I would without doubt call brave. Maybe part of this journey is to have a name to put on the times we “just did” as an encouragement to ourselves, and we can look back and say “I was braver than I knew.”
Just catching up on some of the posts. Felt I wanted to say. I love you. I love the glimpse of your story you shared with me. I’m forever changed by your courage. Thanks for being you.