with beautiful timing,

Maybe the world is supposed to be broken?  Maybe injustice is supposed to reign?  Maybe slavery will always exist?  Maybe this is just the way the world is and we need to let it be?

All of these questions have run through my mind over the last three weeks.  And they are merciless.  It has been a rollercoaster that is indescribable, full of the most emotion, pain, and joy that I’ve ever experienced.  It is impossible for me to put all of my thoughts down and try to pick through the adventure and journey of trying to answer all of those questions that I have asked. I’ve gone before God and begged Him, pleaded with Him, and yelled at Him in search of answers.  When Kony2012 went viral, I thought the world would unite and each of us would push to pursue justice as one.  I was wrong.  I’m not too surprised I guess, now that I look back over the whole situation.  But it absolutely crushes me how people have sought to destroy other human beings over issues as simple as human lives.  I don’t get it and it kills me.  I’m intensely confused and hurt.  Kony2012 is about humanity and people rising up for justice.  It’s as pure and as honest as that.  Some people have gotten that and have risen up together and we will stand and fight with our voices loud and our fists high.  There has been a massive outcry for justice from all over the world and for that, I rejoice.  I rejoice that it is more likely now, than it has ever been before, for Joseph Kony and his top commanders to be arrested and for the children to be rescued and the 440,000 plus who are displaced at this very moment, to return home. 

There are no easy answers but there are honest ones.  And as I have searched myself and begged Jesus to open me, I’ve learned these things: no, the world is not supposed to be broken. No, injustice is not supposed to reign.  No, slavery will not always exist.  No, this is not the way the world is supposed to be.  And I will fight for humanity because the answers to all of those questions is no.  Jesus offers life and I will stop at nothing to dance for that.  Just as Isaiah 61:1 says, He came to proclaim liberty to the captives.  And He is doing that and will do that for both the spiritual and physical oppressed. 

Friends, I am so inadequate, I have seen that in such a powerful and humbling way over the past weeks.  Human souls are fragile and I get angry when people bad talk Invisible Children or Jason Russell, but how many times have I myself done that to other organizations and people in the past?  Organizations are made up of people.  People have souls and they are the most important things in the whole world.  Oh, how much I have learned and how sick of a human being I am.  However, there is a scandalous and true grace that Jesus covers me with and allows me to come back to defend the rights of others around this world, and for that I sing. 

This is not a white man’s burden, it is a human burden.  I stand with the leaders of the Acholi-land and other leaders of Central African countries who met just a few short weeks ago to all pledge their support in ending the reign of terror of Joseph Kony.  If we cannot unite on an issue that simply says we believe this man must be stopped, what else can we unite on?  My heart is heavy.   And I am confused but will continue to pray earnestly for peace to remain in Northern Uganda as they recover from the aftermath of the LRA and for CAR, DRC, and South Sudan to recover from the recent terror or the LRA. 

This generation must come together for freedom.  No matter where you’re from, what you’re doing, or what you believe. Freedom is imperative and we must rise up, speak out, and fight.

This is what I know to be true: this week is the Holy Week and Jesus came, He died, and He rose again and we celebrate that.  What better of a time for Jesus to glorify Himself and bring Joseph Kony to justice?  The world is watching, join me in earnest prayer.  His time is perfect and I rest in that.

with great change,

With great change, comes great adversity.  And last week the world was introduced to Joseph Kony.  In the matter of a couple of hours over a million people had watched Invisible Children’s new film, Kony2012.  Within six days, near 100 million had.  The way the world views justice is changing before our very eyes, and for some reason unknown to me, I get to be a small part of it.

(remember, I am writing this all from my own personal opinion)

There are no words to describe it.  All I know is that a week and half ago, Kony2012 going viral was a distant dream and before we knew it, Jason Russell was on CNN.  I am driving around the country in a van with the world’s biggest story painted on the side.  How did I get here?  What is happening?  I have tried to wrap my head around what has happened in the last week but I’m having trouble grasping it and honestly, I may not be able to grasp just how huge last week was until 15 years down the road.  Until the day when parents are telling their children, “yeah, I remember when that film came out.  I remember the day when Joseph Kony was arrested.” 

My friends, there isn’t much to say and I’m not going to take long.  I know that there is a ton of controversy surrounding Invisible Children and Kony2012 right now, and it’s probably the first time in my life that I have felt this much criticism and adversity for what I have decided to do with my life.  Just know this, there are answers for every question (just ask!) and I am humbled to be a part of such an incredible organization of world-changers.  I am humbled to be under the leadership of incredible men, such as; Jason Russell, Ben Keesey, Zach Barrows, and Jedidiah Jenkins.  I am humbled to be a part of a movement that is changing the world.  I am humbled to know that when history takes attendance and asks, “where were you when this injustice was happening?”, I will be able to answer, “I showed up.”  I am humbled to know that the day is coming soon, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, that Joseph Kony will be arrested and brought to justice and the world will hear just how powerful our voices are.

It doesn’t matter what one thinks about Invisible Children, what matters is that we finally open our eyes and see what the real issue here is: human souls.   This world is not how is should be and it is up to us to change that.  It is up to us to radically challenge the way the world is run, and turn the power balance on its head.  We will hold human souls over everything else, no matter what and this generation is finally coming together to say that with one loud, strong, and magnificent voice.  We are the generation that has said no more to injustice.  We are the Fourth Estate.  And the word “humbled” to use how I feel to be a part of that is not only overused, but obscenely inadequate a description of how I truly feel to be on the frontlines for people and justice.

Three years ago when I stood in a Displacement camp in Gulu, Uganda I promised Jesus that I would do everything I could to fight injustice.  I prayed, “Here I am. Send me” just as Isaiah did, and look where He where He has sent me.  We are truly changing the world. 

When people ask me, “how did this happen? How did this go viral?”, my only answer for them is simply, God.  He desires justice and has heard the cry of the oppressed, as He promised in Psalm 10.  He has perfect timing and He is allowing Kony’s crimes to be made known so that when Kony is arrested and brought to justice, the world will see.  The world will see that no man can take children into slavery for his own selfish gain and get away unnoticed.  We care, we see, and we will stop at nothing for freedom. 

Last week, when the video went viral, a period of my life started that will prove to have changed me forever.  There were four days last week where every waking moment of the day, we were answering phones calls, emails, everything you can imagine about our cause.  We were trying to give answers to every criticism and tell people the truth.  We didn’t sleep, we didn’t breathe, but my friends, we danced.  In those four days I learned so much about myself.  I learned how far my mind and body can be pushed and how when the world feels like it’s against you, you can choose to not give in.  Each day was a roller coaster and I truly didn’t have time to sit down and begin to process what had happened that week until Friday morning.  And even then, I had a very hard time and will have a hard time processing everything for a long long time.  But I know this, that Jesus is faithful and strong and can give me grace to do much more than I ever thought possible. 

There is so much to say about Kony2012 and the worldwide phenomenon it has become.  I know that many of you have questions and I would love to do my best to answer them, but I wanted to say a couple of really quick things to wrap up this scatterbrained blog.

Remember this, it’s very important: we are not calling for Kony’s death.  We are asking for his arrest so that he can be tried and brought to justice. We do not believe in death, we believe in life.  To call for his death would be counterproductive because killing is what we are trying to stop.  And there are people who are praying diligently for Joseph Kony to meet Jesus after he is arrested, so please, join us and pray with everything you have for him to be brought to justice and for him to come to know Jesus.  We are changing the way the world views justice and with that, comes resistance.  Hold fast.  Think of our heroes who have died for what they believed in; MLK, Dietrich Bonheoffer, Steven.  Hold fast, because Jesus is for us and if God is for us, then who could be against us? 

Today I was at a high school and a student walked up to me, looked me in the eyes and said, “we will stop him” and walked away.  He’s right.  The world has new rules and we are in the midst of great change.  Dance with us, as change overtakes us and makes us beautiful.

with childlike simplicity,

I don’t remember the kid’s name, or maybe he never actually told me.  I was in Fountain City, WI and it had just started to snow outside.  The town has a population of 700 people, give or take a few depending on the number of graduating seniors from the year before.  We were presenting out new film to the senior high at the school in the town, and the school actually held K-12.  And to add onto everything, we met a wonderful lunch lady named Barb who supplied my team with a very nostalgic plate lunch of tacos, complete with chocolate milk. 

The kid came up to me during when the presentation was going on when I had the job of standing at the merch table that was set up outside of the cafeteria.  It was the elementary school’s turn for lunch so many of the children would wonder past the table with wide eyes, far too intimidated to stop and talk to me.  Many of them would slow down when they reached the table and when I would say hello, they would either start giggling profusely and run away or stop dead in their tracks, gasp and back slowly away in terror.   But not this kid.  He was different and stopped to talk to me.  Actually, thinking back on it he walked up to the table with a strut that was full of confidence and innocence.  He stopped right in front of me, pointed to the table and asked, “what’s this all about?”  I told him that we were a group of people who were giving a presentation to the high schoolers.  He then asked, “what kind of presentation?  What do you guys do?”  Now, I love elementary kids and had the privilege to work with them when I was in Fayetteville, but I haven’t exactly had practice in trying to explain Invisible Children or justice to a second grader before.  So I opened my mouth and let the small amount of truth I know proceed.  I stumbled on my words but ended up saying something along these lines: “we are a group of people who are trying to stop a really bad man from kidnapping kids and making them hurt people.”  I can honestly say that I will never forget the look on his face.  He instantly lost the confidence that he had held and his face turned from a sheepish smile to a concerned frown.  He lowered his voice and just asked, “what?”  I tried to keep it light and we stood there in the hallway of his school and talked for another two or three minutes.  He and I both knew that it was too heavy for the moment and he turned to walk away.  But when he started walking, he stopped after two or three steps and turned around.  He looked at me in the eyes and when we made eye contact, his mouth formed that same smile he had approached me with and put his arm up, formed a peace sign with his fingers and said, “peace” as he started walking again down the hall.  In that moment, I learned something profound: injustice is not complicated, it’s simple… it’s wrong and there are no questions attached to that.  Seeing the heart of a second grader break might have been the thing that finally helped me understand how simple all of this really is.  Injustice is wrong, it has to be stopped and we are the ones to stop it.  There are no ifs, ands, and buts about it, it’s time to act.

I wonder why we all can’t understand like that kid understands.  Why do we see something wrong and write it off by saying it’s too complicated to solve?  “Oh, it’s just another problem.  There are thousands of them out in the world, why work on one?”  My question is, why not?  If there are a thousand problems in the world and I don’t work to fix the one I can, then there are still 1000 problems, instead of 999.  I have learned so much in the past two months of being with Invisible Children and I am so thankful for everything I have experienced.  The stories are many and beautiful and even thinking back about them, makes me laugh and smile thinking about how much change has accompanied me in the past 53 days.  But one of the main things I have learned is the importance of simplicity.  Sometimes things are complicated and I understand that and I am not too naïve to say it, but often things are so simple that we can’t see them for what they are.  Just like injustice is simple, so is my walk with Jesus.  Love God, love people and if I pursue those two things, then I will learn and live all that I need to. 

Maybe Jesus was onto something when he said that in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, we must become like children.  Maybe just maybe, when Jesus said that the greatest command was to love God and to love people, he wasn’t just suggesting. 

I have been on the road for just over a week (following a monumental month and a half in San Diego) and I have already experienced so much adventure.  It’s been an incredible journey thus far and I am so excited to see what happens over these next two months of being on tour.  I believe with everything that I am that we will see Joseph Kony be brought to justice and also see the youth of America be turned upside down with the story of humanity and being global citizens.  I am humbled to be a part of something that is truly shaping human history. 

Just like that kid left me with, I will also leave with you.  Peace.  It’s achievable and it’s real.  

Take my hand, let’s dance and let’s teach everyone else as well. 

            

with tireless hope,

Writing blogs in itself isn’t hard; it’s starting the blog post that is actually the hard part.  Because the first paragraph sets the tone for the entire post, outlining what I will address in the next few paragraphs and setting the tone for overall feel.  Well friends, I need to start out with honesty.  There is no possible way I am going to be able to cram the last 26 days of my life into this post.  There is no way to go over everything I have learned, the people I have fallen in love with, and the way my heart has been shattered on a daily basis.   I live with 63 people and am experiencing beautiful and authentic community and I am learning what it means to love God and love people.  I am growing up.  I am falling in love with people and I am learning more and more dance steps every day.  I am going to try and make it short and outline some of the paint points of what Jesus has been teaching me. 

            26 days ago I got on a plane destined for San Diego and literally had no idea what I was getting myself into.  I’m not going to go deep into Invisible Children but know this folks, this organization has changed the way the world views justice and is continuing to make monumental strides on the grand stage of international justice.  I am humbled beyond belief to be a small part of this incredible family of world-changers.   I have learned so much about the programs that IC has on the ground and I can say with all honesty that I believe if Invisible Children didn’t exist, there is a great chance that the LRA would still be rampaging through Northern Uganda.  (If you would like more details, shoot me a Facebook message or email, I would love to chat about it… but for now that’s all I will say.)  I have never before been more sure that I am where I am supposed to be.  Jesus has made it clear this is where He has me.  In just under three weeks we will launch for tour and thus will begin my three month road trip adventure.  We will travel to nearly a hundred different high schools, colleges, middle schools, and places of worship to present our cause and to desperately plead with people to open their eyes to injustice and to be a voice for the oppressed.  This is the year of justice.  Get ready.

            With that all being said, I also have had an incredibly hard month, maybe the hardest month of my life.  There are many reasons for that, the main being that each day I feel like my heart is being broken a little bit more.  Every day I have to call people to ask them to help us set up a screening and I have to listen to people ignorantly tell me their not interested.  There is a huge chasm in my mind when I hear people say that they’re not interested in justice.  Especially when it’s a church.  Day in and day out I am explaining to people the conflict in Central Africa and how simple it is for us to get involved by just raising out voices to our government about helping our fellow man.  I plead with them over the phone, trying my very best to describe the faces that I have seen and the death that literally keeps my awake at night.  The fact that we live in a broken world has weighed heavily upon me the past few years since walking with Jesus but these last 26 days have driven that nail deep into my chest.  We have had hours upon hours of training about the conflict and the history of the LRA and of Joseph Kony and the images and stories whirl around in my mind constantly.  Millions of people have been displaced, thousands and thousands dead and so many more children made to fight as child soldiers and used as sex slaves.  It’s simple in my mind, so painfully simple… this has to stop.  Why isn’t that simple to others?  To the church? Truly, even as I am sitting here in this coffee shop writing this, I feel like some one is punching me continuously.  Evil is real.  I have no doubt and that both terrifies me and teaches me something very important.  If evil is real, then so is good.  If darkness is real, then so is light.  And light is so much more powerful.

            In the last 26 days the most important thing I have learned to do is to laugh.  At the same moment I am imaging Kony abducting a child and carrying him away from his mutilated family to the bush, I also see that same child after he escapes.  I see him laughing and learning to live again because hope exists.  I have seen passed the lie that since there’s evil and darkness, then I have to let myself mourn every second of every day.  If I give into that lie, then evil triumphs and I hear to tell you with everything that is in me, evil will never triumph because hope breathes, and hope’s name is Jesus.  I finally understand the words of Psalm 30: “You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed my with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.”  My heart aches but it also rejoices.  Jesus has given me another day to live and to dance, laugh, and fight with all that is in me for his deepest love, humanity. People.  There are 27 million people who are slaves and have no hope.  That is 27 million people I will be accountable to when I kneel before the King and give account of my life.  I am covered by the blood and grace of Jesus but that is no crutch or excuse to stay to myself, it’s my glory to stand and to wave the great flag of Freedom.  And to add onto those 27 million are billions other with no hope.  Billons other that don’t know Jesus, some who have never even heard.  Church, it’s time for us to wake up.  We have so much work to do.

            Last Saturday I was spending some time reading and praying and came across this prayer in Common Prayer by Shane Claiborne.  It’s simple and beautiful and perfect for what Jesus has been teaching me.

“Lord to laugh in the midst of trial and to rejoice in the darkest valley is another way of saying, ‘our hope is in you’.  Fill us with laughter and joy while we work for justice and strive for peace.”

           

            That is my prayer.  I am a living sacrifice and He has led me to justice and loving people.  See, I have been reading over 1 John since I’ve been here and John seems to have a pretty different stance on living as a Christ-follower than the majority of us do.  He makes it plain: Love God. Love People.  There’s nothing else to it.  Why do we insist on making it so complex?

            I am so glad to be here in San Diego and to be learning like I am, and I am so excited about hitting the road here in a couple weeks (I’ll try to blog right before I go).  But I also miss Fayetteville with an intense and deep hurt.  Jesus is showing me what it means to love and live and to move.  After I leave here and Lord-willing return to Fayetteville, I know I will miss this place and the people with the same intensity, and so on and so forth until the day my soul’s desire is finally met.  And I know that I will question, I will fight, and I will writhe in agony over injustice until that day as well. But for now I will follow and I will laugh and I will dance with tireless hope because that hope is alive.

(If you’d like more detailed information on how I’m doing personally and prayer requests, etc. send me your email address and I’ll add you to my email update list!)

with everything,

“How else would you rather live than to have it hurt when you leave someplace?”

That quote could, in all actually, describe the rest of my life.  In less than 48 hours I will be getting on a plane destined for San Diego, CA and I will be setting off on the wildest 5 month adventure my young life has seen yet.  I will be getting ready to devote every second of every day to ending a war that terrorized Central Africa for 26 years and for every moment I am working, I will be directly affecting the world’s slavery count.  I know that it is where I am suppose to be, but I can’t help but think about my friends going back to Fayetteville in two weeks.  They will move back and get settled in their dorms, or apartments, and start back with school and I will not.  And I didn’t realize the weight of leaving, until today.  I was sitting in Starbucks working on the pre-arrival assignments for Invisible Children when it hit me… I’m not going back, I’m really not going back.  The longevity of that truth struck me hard and left me with not just a broken heart, but a crushed heart.  I haven’t realized how attached my heart was to Fayetteville and the people there until just about three hours ago.  It grieves my soul that I won’t be going back and that I won’t get to further invest in the incredible relationships I have been able, by the grace of God, to establish.  For years I have read Paul’s words in his letters to the churches and skipped over his desperate plea to return to them, because I never understood the pain of leaving a place and a people that you love so much.

This last week I had the privilege to go to Passion 2012 in Atlanta, GA.  It was an incredible four days.  45,000 students gathered to proclaim justice in the name of Jesus all around the world who are stuck in slavery.  I had heard many of the statistics before but never have I so deeply felt a need for justice as I did in those four days.  And as I sat in the seats next to my fellow world-changers, I became increasingly humbled throughout the conference because Jesus was allowing me to be involved in His great heart for justice next semester with IC.  There was one day when we sang a song that said, “Your love never fails, it never gives up on me. You never give up on me” and the words after those were, “On and on and on and on it goes, it overwhelms and overcomes my soul. I’ll never, ever, have to be afraid, because one thing remains.”  In those moments I saw the faces of the people who I will meet one day in Heaven, who will come up to me and tell me how because of my involvement with Invisible Children, they weren’t abducted by the LRA and allowed a chance to live and to accept Jesus.  I saw them, I saw their eyes and their mouths and their souls.  And just as I felt like my heart had had too much, Jesus gave me the precious gift of confirming my choice to leave Fayetteville to work with IC by sending His servant, Christine Caine to speak.  She talked about justice and how it is one with evangelism, about our need to act, and about a desperate and unshakable hope in the redeeming blood of Jesus.  Over those 30 minutes, God confirmed so much for me.  I know without any doubt that I am going where He is leading me.  I am so humbled to be a small part of fighting injustice, and this amazing chance to pursue God’s heart.  Because I realized something this week, those child soldiers that we’re advocating for, they are part of the total of the 27 million slaves in this world.  It’s time for me to act.

But even with that beautiful and vital confirmation, I still have a deep longing to go back to Fayetteville.  It hurts me to think about my friends moving on and about not being with the people I’ve got to share Christ with and so on and so forth.  But this is good.  I need to hurt, I need to mourn, I need to grieve.  If I’m living the way that Jesus desires for us to live, then doesn’t it make all of the sense in the world to have pain when we leave a place?

So with that being said I am more than excited for this journey and beg each of you to pray for my team and I as we promote justice and desperately plea with the youth of America to open their eyes.  Please pray for me to love and to give and to walk in justice and truth by the power of the Holy Spirit, every step of the way.  Although my heart will mourn leaving Fayetteville, I am confident by God’s grace that I will get to return to those people I love soon.  I will come back to the UofA and continue in my prayer to reach the students for Christ and to see great revival on that campus (and I’m continuing to pray for that hard, even in my absence).  

These next five months are going to be crazy and many people have asked me if I’ll be blogging or not and the answer to that is yes, but in a different form and fashion.  I will be blogging once a month.  Each month I will be sending an update to supporters and friends via email about what is going on (if you’d like to receive that update just shoot me your email address on Facebook or Twitter) and I will be also be writing a blog.  So please be on the lookout for the updates so that you can continue to labor with me and for me in prayer.  I covet each and every one of your prayers, my friends. 

On the second night of Passion, Hillsong United played a concert.  I had never seen them live before so I had no idea what to except.  The last song they sang was called, “With Everything” and what happened during those 10 minutes or so was nothing short of divine.  I experienced the presence of the Holy Spirit like I never have before as I screamed out the anthem of our generation.  “With everything, we will shout for you glory.  With everything, we will shout for you praise.”  I danced and cried and shouted to Heaven the words of complete and utter surrender.  The place was literally shaking from the 45,000 voices rising in unison.  I will never forget the declaration we made in those moments.  I will never forget the cry… Freedom.

And with that being said, the next months my blogs will be on a consistent theme of “with (fill in the blank),”.  Each one highlighting what I am learning and how I am growing by being on the road and fighting justice on a daily basis. 

Although my heart is mourning leaving Fayetteville, it is eagerly looking forward to the journey ahead of me and I stand by God’s beautiful promise:

“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?

Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?

Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.

Then you shall cry, and He will say, “Here I am.” If you take away the yoke from your midst, the pointing of the finger, and speaking of wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as noonday.

And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.

And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in.”

-Isaiah 58:6-12

With everything, hallelujah.

Questions and Answers

       I will never forget the night I first talked to George.  It was early in the semester, on a Sunday night around 1 A.M., so I guess it would have technically been Monday morning, then.  I was doing my laundry and decided that while I was waiting for it to be done, I might as well take advantage of the waiting and study for an upcoming geology quiz.  But instead of sitting in the laundry room, I relocated to the room across the basement with all of the vending machines, on account of two abnormally loud chatty girls.  It’s funny how small changes like this can be so vital in how your life plays out.  So there I am sitting on the floor, listening to Andrew Belle when George walks carrying Jimmy Johns.  I only slightly knew George and that was only because he lived three doors down from me on my hall.  He got to the vending machine and punched the buttons to get his drink.  When he turned around, he spotted me immediately and greeted me warmly.  See the thing about George is that he’s genuinely and authentically friendly.  I don’t know many people like that, so when I greeted me as he did, I was almost taken aback.  Nonetheless, I returned the favor immediately, greatly anticipating his sincere hello.  It was the normal dialogue, you know, the “how are you?” “good man, how are you?” and so on and so forth, however with George, that kind of talk is always different than with other people, it’s bona fide, it’s meaningful.  Even as the semester spanned out, even these small “catch-up” talks with George meant more to me than the majority of other conversations I would have with people.  But that night, instead of saying the usual, hello goodbye, he sat down next to me on the floor in the basement of Humphreys.  What followed was a talk that really did set the course for the rest of my semester, possibly leading me to where I am now with taking the spring semester off to tour with Invisible Children.

            In the hour or so that followed, George and I began to pick away at the monotonous questions that most people ask while talking for the first real.  Before either of us knew it we were talking about why we were at the UofA and I was telling him about my bout with my ankle years ago that allowed Jesus to finally get a grip on my life.  We talked about how there must be a reason for everything and why we didn’t really believe in coincidences.  And somehow we started to talk about the questions we had with life, with the world, with why things are the way they are and so on and so forth.  I remember him clearly saying, “you know, Chris, I guess there are just many questions to be answered and many answers to be questioned.”  We talked about how every morning when we get up, we are faced with a day full of questions that are begging to be answered and on the same page, so many answers that are waiting to be questioned. 

            That talk not only set in motion motivation for the rest of the semester, it also gave me a friend in George and because of getting to know George, I also got to know and come to deeply love the rest of the guys on my hall.

            A couple of nights before I packed up and left Fayetteville for the year, my friend Connor asked me, “so, was it worth it? Was this semester worth it?”  And as I look back over my four months, I relive moments of great triumph, like the night I met George, and great sorrow, like the night we heard that Westboro would picket Garrett Uekman’s funeral.  I vividly recall the first week of school when I awkwardly walked around campus in a freshman gaze, staring wide-eyed at every new adventure around every turn.  This semester was full of long hours in the library, mindlessly studying Geology and others in that same chair, full of dancing as Steinbeck’s words of Salina’s Valley and ‘timshel’ rang a new symphony for humanity in my soul.   It was also a couple months of learning to love people.  Until this year I could easily escape the eyes of everyone by simply retreating to my house in the middle of the woods and shutting my door to the world… but not this year. I had no choice but to embrace everyone at any time of the day and finally let my little perfect Christian bubble be popped.  I got to witness people throwing their lives away and others gaining them.  I was blessed enough to meet and learn from laborers who were giving up everything to share Christ with students around them.  I experienced healing and community in the Church in a way that I never thought would be possible.  My heart’s desire for the Nations to know Christ grew as my heart for individuals grew as well.  So much so that when I would sit and study or read, I would look over and see someone studying who looked unhappy and before I knew it, I was getting emotional over this person I didn’t know.  Maybe I just sound like a baby?  But I’m okay with that, because I honestly think that this semester was the time in my life when I learned to feel and to feel deeply, at that.  I gained and I lost, I laughed and I cried.  I walked and I ran, and I danced.  And then I danced some more.  But more than anything, I learned to question and to seek answers.  Every single day of this last four months has held something different for me; whether that was attempting with all of my might to share the Gospel with everyone I talked to in some way, shape, or form or having to discipline myself to not wait to study until the night before a big test.  But as I saw what it meant to answer questions, I saw in the same paintbrush stroke, my restlessness. I had to move.  I needed to move. 

            For far too long, I have stayed in the same place, going through the motions.  I have been in Arkansas for too long.  Although I have been growing and learning, by the grace of God, I came face to face with the truth that it is time for me to move and roam and to answer some questions that I couldn’t ever hope to answer by staying in Fayetteville.  So God opened up the opportunity to be a roadie with Invisible Children and to travel the country and to tell thousands and thousands of students about injustice in the world. 

            The night before my friend George left school, we sat in the 6^th floor study room and went back over our previous semester.  We reminisced about the first time we talked in the basement of Humphreys many months before and went over our experiences since.  It’s funny to see how much someone can grow up in four months.   We talked for a while and finally came to the topic of me leaving for my adventure with IC.  He sat musing and with a smile remarked, “This semester your desk was the University of Arkansas, but next semester your desk is the youth of America. What are you going to do with it?”  The words hit me right in the chest, because I hadn’t even thought about it like that.  “Can’t wait to hear about the questions you answer and the answers you question,” he went on to say and left my head spinning with excitement for the journey I had ahead of me.  The night went on and the conversation turned spiritual, leaving me talking about being in front of Jesus one day, being in front of my Soul’s Desire.  And that’s when he said, “I guess that’s when the world’s biggest question will be answered.”  And he’s right.  When I’m in front of Jesus, everything will make sense and everything will be answered.  All of my questions about injustice and hell and everything in between will be set right, and I will finally be satisfied.  But until then, I will pursue the mountains, seeking to know Christ and to make Him known.  To answer and to question.   To love and to hurt.  To grow and learn.

            So was this semester worth it?  Yes. Undoubtedly yes.

with liberty bound together,

            I remember so clearly that moment when I was standing in the IDP camp in Gulu, Uganda when I had the thought, the thought that would define the course of my life.  I remember the exact place I was standing, what I was wearing, what I was holding when I thought it. 

“I have to do something. I can’t just let it all happen anymore.”

My heart hasn’t forgotten that hot and humid day in June and when I returned back to the States, Jesus immediately let me start pursuing justice and hence, fulfilling the promise I made to myself.  It’s humorous to look back now and wallow over the memories of when my friend Luke first told me about Invisible Children.  He was so excited and kept saying how we needed to help, needed to show the film, and so on and so forth.  Well, I finally bought into his dream after returning from Uganda for the first time and started working with others, putting on benefit concerts to raise money for this non-profit that was working tirelessly to end the longest running war in Africa.  As the years went on and I returned back to Africa again, my heart became more and more bonded to the cause and this last summer I was invited to attend the Fourth Estate; a justice conference held by Invisible Children in San Diego.  Over those four days I sat and listened to the world’s most passionate activists and caught the infectious dream of a world alive with peace.  Jesus did something to my heart sitting in the auditorium of USD and even now as I try to adequately describe it all with words, I find myself at a loss.  It was deep and profound, so much so that when I was on the plane flight home, I wrote in my journal that I felt more alive than I ever had in my whole life. 

When I started to follow Jesus with my whole life, He gave me a heart to tell everyone about Him.  A desire to see people come to know Him, but He also gave me a desperate plea for justice.  My vision and my heart’s eternal and final cry is for the Great Commission to be fulfilled and hopefully, by the grace of God, I will be able to help serve that dream come true by going to reach the unreached soon.  But for this moment, He has placed me in Fayetteville, Arkansas to glorify Him.  And my earnest prayer is that this last semester, I was able to do just that.  I’ve met some incredible people and been able to invest in phenomenal relationships.  He has blessed me with the most amazing group of guys to call my family, d-wing in Humphreys hall and some other friends who have there to laugh with me, cry with me, pray with me, and live with me.  I have fallen in love with this campus and the wonderful human beings who walk next to me. A group of monumental world changers who aren’t afraid to dance on Dickson in banana suits and who are willing to risk everything just so children in Uganda, who they have never met, may have a chance to live.  I have learned so much about what it means to love and to live astonished. 

A couple of months ago the idea of being a roadie with Invisible Children crept into my mind and wouldn’t leave.  A roadie is someone who goes on tour, in a van, around the United States showing an Invisible Children film at different high schools and colleges to not only raise awareness but let people get involved.  My life has been so deeply affected by these roadies and I knew that if I were one then I would have the chance to radically challenge the youth of America to see that the world is bigger than them, that the world is bigger than America.  Being a roadie is a unique position where you can do justice day in and day out.  So I applied.

This last month I have been in prayer and others have been praying for me on whether or not I should go be a roadie with Invisible Children or stay here in Fayetteville.  I can honestly say that from the beginning of the process I have had a strange and divine peace about the entire thing.  Throughout all of the interviews and even the phone call telling me whether I was going to be a roadie or not, I had no anxiety.   I knew that if Jesus wanted me to stay here in Fayetteville next semester and continue to labor with the specific people I have come to love, then I would indeed stay here.  I also knew that if He wanted me to travel and be a roadie, then I would go. 

Next week when all of the students from the University of Arkansas leave for Christmas break, I will be moving out of my dorm for the year.  I will be preparing to leave Arkansas and arrive in San Diego January 9^th to begin this new chapter in my life of being a roadie with Invisible Children. 

My heart is torn.  Since I found out and have started to tell people, it has been an almost painful thing walking throughout campus and thinking I won’t be here in the Spring.  It has been astronomically hard to walk up and down my dorm hallway and know that I won’t be here to deepen my friendship with those guys even further.  I don’t really understand the timing of it all but to give a little background, I am planning to study Arabic here at the University and once I start, I cannot take a break.  So if I were to stay here and start Arabic then I wouldn’t be able to be a roadie with Invisible Children until I graduate and I am very prayerful that by that time, the Lord will have given me the green light to go to the unreached.  So the fact that this was my one chance and the fact that I got accepted is Jesus saying as clear as day to me that it’s time to go.  It time to jump. 

It’s time to leave and travel and learn to love and learn to follow and to grow even further in my understanding of what it means to dance in joy and sorrow.  I will be able to share my plea for justice with thousands of students and try with all of my might to let them catch the dream of our liberty being bound with the liberty of children in Uganda, of the man in the slums of Mumbai, and the widow in Beijing. 

My heart is full and ready to go, to follow Jesus where He has me going and to experience Him in a way that I never have before.  To pursue justice and tell everyone about the Grace that has found me and given me breath.  I am at last, risking the ocean.

 with liberty bound together,

Chris