It's Time for the Woman to Stand Up

I heard a statement when I was 16-years-old that I haven’t been able to forget. I vividly remember sitting in a hotel ballroom in Orlando where I was attending a student leadership conference, when the keynote speaker said these bold, challenging words: “It’s time for the little girl to sit down and the woman to stand up.” Nearly seven years later, those words are still ringing in my ears.

The little girl in me wants life to be pretty simple…like picking what restaurant you want to go to for dinner. But life doesn’t always have concrete answers. I’m discovering there are many shades of grey. For me, tipping into adulthood felt strange at first—like playing dress up in your mom’s clothes only to find out that they actually fit you. It was this sensation of stumbling around in the dark, tripping over furniture you didn’t know was there, all the while searching for the light. Many days I feel like I’m standing at the crossroads of that little girl I once was and the woman I know I am called to be. And it’s in this crossroads that I know I must make a choice to either remain the same or embrace the freefall.

Hebrews 6:1-3, 11-12 says, “Therefore let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God, and of instruction about washings, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. And this we will do if God permits . . . And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.”

I love how Eugene Peterson so bluntly explains the words of Hebrews 6:1-3, 11-12 in The Message: “So come on, let’s leave the preschool fingerpainting exercises on Christ and get on with the grand work of art. Grow up in Christ. The basic foundational truths are in place: turning your back on ‘salvation by self-help’ and turning in trust toward God . . . extend that same intensity toward a full-bodied hope, and keep at it till the finish. Don’t drag your feet. Be like those who stay the course with committed faith, and then get everything promised to them.”

Growing up from childhood into adulthood is a natural rhythm in life. We biologically can’t remain the same—we’ll become adults whether we like it or not. Just as we physically mature, God also calls us spiritually to mature as well. But I don’t think the words in Hebrews 6 are simply calling us to mature in knowledge. I think they’re challenging us to mature in our capacity...our potential…to mature into the women God originally designed us to be.

But here’s the thing: we can’t manufacture this kind of maturity. Rising to the occasion and becoming the woman God calls you to be, isn’t something we can just turn on and off like a light switch. It’s a transforming work God must do in and through us.

Romans 4:3, 17-18 says, “The story we’re given is a God-story, not an Abraham story. What we read in Scripture is, ‘Abraham entered into what God was doing for him and that was the turning point. He trusted God to set him right instead of trying to be right on his own . . . Abraham was first named ‘father’ and then became a father because he dared to trust God to do what only God could do: raise the dead to life, with a word make something out of nothing. When everything was hopeless, Abraham believed anyway, deciding to live not on the basis of what he saw he couldn’t do but on what God said he would do.”

Did you catch that? Abraham became who God made him to be because he trusted God to do it. That’s an incredible thought and it personally gives me so much hope. You see, God calls us to maturity, but He doesn’t just say, “Figure it out.” He actually says the exact opposite. Maturing into the women God calls us to be is found by sitting at His feet. It’s discovered in settling down and not trying to figure it out on our own. It’s accomplished through trusting Him to do what He said He would do. Maturity is found in growing your trust.

Hebrews 6:18-20 leaves us with incredible hope: “Hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf.” Jesus has covered our past, He is present in today, and He has run before us into our future. We don’t have to do this growing up thing alone. I can become the woman God created me to be because He is with me and He is for me.

This post originally appeared on pickyourportion.com.

Now I'm a Warrior

Seven months ago I made one of the biggest decisions of my life. I packed up my little 2003 Toyota Solara with everything I owned, and drove 2,220 miles away from my family and support system to land in perhaps what’s known as the sin capitol of the world…and call it home.

Now many at first called me crazy. Some perhaps still assume I am. However, something much deeper drew me to Las Vegas than flashy lights, urban culture and an epic career opportunity. My first three months in the desert have taught me something so much more valuable than anything I could have initially hoped it could have. It’s taught me that I’m a warrior.

Moving across the country into a new environment forced me to evaluate my belief system. For the past 23 years, it’s been left somewhat unchallenged by my own mind simply because I never had to face the tough questions I’ve wrestled with on my own, here in the valley. From where I sit today, I’m asking questions for myself. Questions like, “Do I really believe this? Or is this something I just always agreed to because that’s what those around me believed?” Through really diving into the root of these questions, I’ve discovered who I am and who I want to become and the steps I need to take to get there.

One of the most eye-opening truths I’ve learned is that God hand-picked me to be exactly where I am for a very specific reason and purpose. 2 Thessalonians 2:14 says, “God picked you out as his from the very start.” It’s so easy to think that so much in this life is random or purposeless; but God’s Word says the exact opposite!  Our lives are built on purpose—and not just any purpose, but a purpose specific to who He designed us to be. That’s incredible.

After truly allowing this reality to sink into the depths of my bones, I also began to realize that purpose doesn’t stop there. Yes, God has chosen me for such a time as this, and in this exact location; however, it’s up to me to lean in to that purpose. I’ve had to wrestle with feelings of inadequacy, shame of past decisions, and whether what God says about me is even true. That’s when I ran into the words of 2 Thessalonians 2:15-17, “So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter. Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word.” I also love how Eugene Peterson words these three verses in The Message, “So, friends, take a firm stand, feet on the ground and head high. Keep a tight grip on what you were taught, whether in personal conversation or by our letter. May Jesus himself and God our Father, who reached out in love and surprised you with gifts of unending help and confidence, put a fresh heart in you, invigorate your work, enliven your speech.”

Purpose is lived out by my willingness to stand firmly grounded on what I believe. In discovering that truth, I’ve really honed in my core beliefs and outlined for myself what I believe for me—not what my parents believe, what my friends advocate for, or even what culture says is right or wrong. What do I believe for me? That’s what it came down to in my own life…and that is exactly what it came down to in order for me stand up firmly.

I read a recent article by Sarah Bessey in which she declared that we’re named by God as “Beloved Warriors.” I couldn’t help but fall in love with that concept. And I think Sarah’s onto something—in order to accomplish living out my purpose and staying rooted in my belief system, I have to fight for it. I need to lace up my boots, stand tall and claim victory. I need to be who God already says I am!

I believe transformation is all about putting my stake in the ground, claiming victory over my past and anticipating the path ahead. It’s about embracing the road we left behind, but not forgetting what brought us to this point in time. It’s a choice to lace up your boots, brush the dirt off your face and declare yourself to be the beloved warrior God already designed you to be. It’s a declaration of war on purposelessness, and the pursuit of victory that is already our’s to claim.

My prayer for you and my prayer for me is that God “puts a fresh heart in you, invigorates your work, and enlivens your speech.” May we be women anchored in our beliefs who passionately pursue the purpose God has on our lives…and may we not be afraid to lace up our boots.

This post originally appeared on pickyourportion.com. 

the truth about tomorrow

It literally feels like we just threw our graduation caps in the air and marched across that graduation stage strutting our proudest Gator chomps. Now, diplomas have arrived in the mail. Speciality frames are being ordered. New jobs are being started. Moves are taking place. And oh, friends are getting married.

I'll never forget how I met my friend, Alex. He sat in front of me in Dr. Sutherland's Advertising Strategy class during our Spring semester of junior year. We met through a mutual friend and struck up a conversation. Since that day, I would consider Alex as one of my closest friends in college. We formed a little tribe of friends and made countless trips to Pascal's Coffeehouse, explored the University of Florida's campus, dreamed about what our lives would look like after we graduated, took tons of photos on World Water Day for charity: water, and survived our capstone course—Campaigns.

Fast-forward almost three months after graduation. I'm sitting five rows back in a church just outside Tallahassee, looking at my friend's eyes moisten as he sees his beautiful bride walk down the aisle toward him. They can't take their eyes off each other...literally. Glowing, both Alex and Shannon made a vow to each other and to God, leaning in to this next chapter of their lives.

Time stopped for me in the middle of their ceremony. It wasn't that I hadn't ever been to a wedding before or that I was just mesmerized by the beautiful decor. The seasons of life just sort of hit me square in the face. A close friend of mine just got married. Three months ago we graduated from college. We're starting careers. We're moving into new territory, uncharted waters.

The funny thing is, Alex isn't my first friend to get married. I've gone to friends' weddings, celebrated their special moments & will be wishing some "Happy Anniversary" soon! But Alex's wedding made me stop and think about life and seasons and chapters in a way I hadn't before. Maybe it's the fact that I've celebrate monumental life moments with Alex before that made me sense this seasonal shift in life; but whatever the case may be, I was reminded of how beautiful this thing we call life really is and just how fast it's moving.

I want to slow down. Sometimes, I feel like middle school was yesterday, and I was staring wide-eyed at the college girls I adored, wondering what life would be like when I was in their shoes. Now I am. And it's going so fast. In the midst of changing seasons, I want to hang on to one truth with all that I am: I am known and loved by God. 

As I embrace the Creator of my soul, I want to bask in His unending love, His perfect faithfulness. It's so comforting to know that He will never leave me or forsake me (Deuteronomy 31v6). He sees me where I am today and He sees where He is leading me tomorrow. Here's the cool part: when I trust God with my tomorrows, I can slow down and give today all I've got...every fiber of my being, every morsel of my love, every inch of my creativity, every shred of forgiveness...every, single breath.

Life is going to keep moving. And from what I hear, it only gets faster. I can't pause, rewind, or stop it. But I can live it fully...and as I face a brand new season, this land I've never been before, I'm going to trust what tomorrow looks like to the God who made it in the first place.

following Jesus leads to outsiders

We often don't think of having a relationship with complete strangers. But the truth of the matter is, we do. Someone may look different than us, have a different style, and we may have never said a word to them, but we have one thing in common: our Creator.

Today, I'm reflecting on some hard words. Yesterday at Church of Hope, we talked about "outsiders"—those who haven't experienced this incredible Hope we have in Christ. The conversation got me thinking about those who perhaps step into a church environment for the first time or the first time in a long time.

What are they thinking? Are they worried about what to expect? What to wear?

What are they expecting? A friend? Hope? Answers? Judgement?

I've been the new girl, the outsider, in plenty of situations ranging from schools to churches to work environments. The first time stepping foot in a new place in tough. Environments where people's eyes stare at you and don't offer a friendly smile is discouraging. On the flip-side, the environments I've stepped into where a friendly word has been extended and smile offered my way, I've felt welcomed and accepted...like I belong.

Church is a polarizing environment in our culture. While some experience the incredible community that the church was designed to be, others experience deep hurt, pain, rejection, and judgement. And I know this from personal experience. I've lived on both ends of that spectrum.

Hear my heart: let us never be a people who look at someone who comes to church for the very first time or the first time in a long time and say, "It's your responsibility to let me know you're new here." Ouch. Too often—and not just on Sundays—we walk past people sitting at cafe tables, standing off to the side alone, or sitting in a lone aisle, rushing quickly to grab coffee or say a quick hello to a friend before the worship gathering starts. Little do we know what that person is going through...or perhaps, what they have experienced in a church environment in the past. It's not their responsibility to announce the fact that they're a stranger. If we are followers of Christ, it's our responsibility to be aware. Following Jesus leads to outsiders.

We—and I'm speaking to myself here too!—get stuck in routines far too easily. I know that I walk past people searching desperately for Hope...people who are outsiders that could be insiders and experience the life-giving Hope we have in Christ...but these people will only experience it if I slow down enough to see.

Let's slow down. This week, keep your eyes open to those who are different than you...than me. Be flexible. Talk to people. Smile.

And if you're part of a church community, when you gather on Sunday, don't walk past people so quickly...especially people you don't know. Say hello. Stop for a minute. You just might be the difference in them moving from being an outsider to being an insider...discovering that they have Hope in Christ.

If you consider yourself an outsider to this thing called church, hear me clearly: I don't know your story and I don't know what you've experienced inside the walls of a church. I understand the pain, the heartache, the feeling of hopelessness. But I've found Hope. Church has hurt me too. But Jesus hasn't. Jesus Christ fills me in a way that people never can. Lasting Hope, fulfilling Hope, comes from Christ alone. I'm sorry for the pain you've experienced and if I could wipe it away, I would. But know that you're not alone. Risk stepping into that environment again. Risk being vulnerable and if you have to take that first step and say hello, do it. But in the midst of the sea of faces, keep your eyes on the true source of Hope—Jesus Christ.

Following Jesus leads to outsiders. If you're not meeting and embracing them, you're not following Jesus. Hard, but true words.

the worship barn

"Hi. My name is Emily," I said to the 15 faces staring back at me. "And tonight couldn't have come at a better time because I'm really struggling with worship."

A week ago, my Mom texted me asking if I wanted to go with her to this "worship experience." In all honesty, I tried to think of excuses to not go. I hesitated. I wasn't sure. I was uncomfortable.

But I said yes.

For the past few weeks (or really, the past few months), I've been struggling with the concept of worship—what does it look like, feel like, taste like? Is it confined to Sundays? Is there a certain way you're supposed to do it? Are you supposed to close your eyes? Lift your hands in the air? Dance in circles? Kneel? Stand stoically? In my mind, I've framed "worship" as a song, something we stand and do on Sundays. We arrive at church, someone greets us, we stand, we sing, we sit down, we listen, we might stand and sing again, and then we go on our way.

But lately I just feel like I'm missing something. And, if I'm gut-level honest, I feel awkward.

As a preacher's kid, I've usually found myself sitting on the front row on Sunday mornings. And with that, at times, I just feel like hundreds of eyes are constantly watching me. In this weird sense of self-awareness, I've begun shifting my focus during a time when I should only be focused on my Creator. I've started to let the hundreds of eye balls affect me, and the way I not only view, but express worship.

worship [wur-ship] noun, verb: reverent honor paid to God; adoring reverence; to feel or render adoration.

Worship is a posture, an expression, a way of living, lending one's life. For a while, I've framed it to be something to "do." But that's not the case. Worship is something we are...something I choose to be, a reflection of who or what I adore.

Worship is adoration.

It's never been about a song, raising your hands, closing your eyes, or even just standing still. It's about what you adore. Worship isn't a Sunday ritual, it's a minute-by-minute decision. Every minute we choose something to adore and express reverence for that thing or person. If I choose to adore coffee, I go crazy until I can get my hands on a fresh cup of French Press. If I choose to adore my career, I'll go to extreme lengths to achieve what I consider corporate success. If I choose to adore the eye balls in the seats behind me on Sundays, I focus all of my attention and energy on what I perceive their opinion of me is.

Worship is where you choose to set your affection.

In my misunderstanding and totally inside-the-box framing of worship, I stepped into this environment called a "Worship Barn" last night. I sat next to 15 other women facing different seasons and different decisions and listened to a precious woman share her heart on worship and the reality that it's ok to not be ok. And then, she turned on some worship music and asked us to stand. She didn't tell us to do anything. Just stand and express what you feel. God moved. He began this excavation of my heart that only He could do. He began re-framing the way I see this thing called worship. In those few minutes, God clearly spoke James 4v10 into the chambers of my heart: "Get on your knees before the Master." I hesitated. And this is the dialogue that literally began going through my mind:

That's a nice word, God. Thanks for that. 

No, Emily. Get on your knees before the Master. 

I don't really want to kneel down in front of these women I've never met before. I mean, God, I literally just told them I struggle with worship...so this would totally draw eye balls to me and I do not want that! 

Emily, right now you can break the chain. You can turn a corner. But you must do this now. Get on your knees. 

Ok.

As I knelt, I instantly felt this release, this sense of "it's ok to not be ok." Tears began rolling down my cheeks as I felt the presence of my Savior, I felt a deep adoration for this God who knows me and loves me exactly as I am. I felt the shift in what worship means...I stopped adoring the eye balls and began adoring the One who made all of those eye balls in the first place.

The next several hours seem like somewhat of a blur. I picked up paint brushes and painted. I thought about the words of James 4v10 and what comes after the simple nudge God spoke into my life—Get on your knees before the Master; it's the only way you'll ever get on your feet. And you know what is just so cool about all of this? In the past few months, as big decisions have come my way, James 4v10 has continually been a word at the fore-front of my mind, and God has brought me down on my knees (literally) to hear what He is trying to say. The fact that He brought James 4v10 to my mind in the Worship Barn collided obedience and worship for me. As I walk in obedience to God, I am worshipping Him. If worship is an act of adoration, obedience is most definitely the launching pad.

As the night drew to a close, one woman pulled me aside and told me what she saw not only in what I had painted, but what she saw in my life. I used a lot of yellow (a color I've been obsessed with lately!) and she said, "Emily, that yellow represents God's glory all over your life. Honey, you've got the spirit of Esther in you. You're going to have to walk into some big palaces straight to the king's throne and God's glory is going with you. He is all over you." I looked back into her eyes and was just utterly amazed at how God chose to step in and speak in ways that are just louder than audible ways. All I could feel was adoration...pure, satisfied adoration.

The Worship Barn leaders hand-picked a bookmark with words on it for each woman. When I received mine, I couldn't help but smile. In one more way, God confirmed what He's doing in this heart of mine, in this season of re-framing the way I view things. Literally—I couldn't make this up if I wanted to!—my card said this: God is excavating your heart. And you know what's even more over-the-top incredible? Those two Worship Barn leaders told me that 24 hours prior to this whole experience they knew that was the word I needed to hear...that confirming nudge that it's ok to not be ok and allow God to step in an re-frame this heart of mine.

Worship is adoration...the place you choose to set your affection. It's not something we do. It's an outpouring of who we are.

conversation starters

I've often wondered why it seems like the church is a late bloomer when it comes to social media. Oh, don't get me wrong, the church is on social media, but too often, I'm finding that she just doesn't know what to do with it.

Throughout my junior and senior year of college, this unexplainable passion for social media began bubbling up from inside of me. I see the incredible potential social media has for one important thing: creating conversations...perhaps, the one thing that church has been afraid to do.

This brings up another question though: why would the church be afraid of asking questions and sparking conversations? I think it boils down to the fact that we're afraid to be real. We have this view of church that it's supposed to be the place where everything is just right, every question is answered, and perfection rises to the top. The church is supposed to have it all figured out, right? That's not what the church was designed for though! In Matthew 11, God calls those who are weary and burdened. As Christ walked the earth, he invested in the broken, the wounded, the weak. The church isn't for the perfect...or those who have the answer to every question, because let's face it, who does? The church is for me...for you...the broken.

Over the past several weeks, social media has lit up with matters surrounding justice. People have been searching, scouring, and begging for something to believe in...something to put their hope in when everything around them seems hopeless. Brands know how to step in, talk, and invite us to share what we're thinking. Where is the church in all of this?

I can't help but wonder what our news feeds would look like if glimmers of Hope were scattered everywhere. Rather than simply signing up for a social media channel and posting proverbial church bulletin-type information announcing when the next potluck is, what if the church asked hard questions? What if the church sparked conversation...a conversation that allowed people to come broken and battered, hopeless in search of Hope?

I'm done missing the mark. Communications is more than "announcements" or "advertising." That's not communication. That's talking at people. It's time to talk with people. It's time to be real, step into the mess, and offer the incredible, life-giving Hope we find in Christ.

what a cruise taught me about college graduation

I'm officially a college graduate. I'm still getting used to the reality of that statement! May 5, 2013 was an exciting day as one chapter in my story came to a close and a new chapter began. To celebrate, my sister and I set sail on the Norwegian Sky for the Bahamas.

On the last night of the cruise, I sat on Deck 12, journaling some thoughts about graduation, next steps, and this crazy, exciting new season I was stepping into. One big idea stuck out to me: graduating from college is a lot like stepping onto a ship and sailing into new, untouched territory. It's parking your car, and stepping away from a way of traveling that was extremely familiar...and completely defined by guidelines and mile markers.  Take a peek into my journal to see what I mean...

A thin layer of salty sand cloaks my sun-kissed skin, the ocean's parting gift at the end of my Bahamian vacation. When I lick my lips, my tongue is greeted by this sugar of the sea, lingering warm and natural—as if it should always be there. I'm lounging poolside, the final rays of sunshine penetrating my skin, whispering, "just a little bit more." 

The ocean seems endless, ongoing, and unpredictable. From my vantage point, it doesn't seem like there's a path to follow...there are no highway signs, no double yellow lines dictating which side of the road you travel on. The ocean, in stark contrast to a road, is open and free, an empty, inviting slate. Yet, in what seems like a giant bowl of bright, blue kool-aid that we could get lost in, we always ended up where we needed to be, settling in a port, ready for the day's sunny excursion. At the end of the day, the control room of the ship, hidden and unseen by the average eye, is what guided the Norwegian Sky to each port of call. Without our Captain, we wouldn't have reached our destinations safely.

I know there are many technicalities to this, but this is all I see: the vast horizon and endless possibilities. I can't help but think of this new chapter, or season, of my life as something like this. I'm sailing in the midst of bright, huge territory, where the opportunities and possibilities seem massive and endless. Exciting and terrifying all at the same time. In the end, the core foundation to this season is trusting God to guide me and learning to follow His markings. It's tasting every flavor, savoring every moment, and drinking deep the rich friendships surrounding me. It's gazing at the horizon with all the hope and intensity I can muster—and loving every minute of the journey.

Welcome to the journey of uncharted territory. When I walked across that stage in the O'Connell Center, I ditched the road map and signs along the highway. This is a season to embrace a God who's bigger than what I can see, and trust that He knows what's best.

World Water Day Photo Recap

If you've been traveling with me for a while, you know that one of my favorite organizations is charity: water. Today, myself and several friends spread the word at the University of Florida about what charity: water is doing to end the water crisis. Learn how you can partner with charity: water and help END the water crisis here! Check out more photos from World Water Day!

Radio Shows & Magnetic Parties

 

Working hard preparing for the Flip the Magnet launch at Citizen's Circle!
(L to R: Cliff Craig, Emily Cummins, Ryan Kirby)

The first 16 days of 2013 have been nothing short of exciting and full of new experiences.

For starters, I had my LAST first day of school. Wow. I graduate from the University of Florida in less than four months. Time is flying! 

Outside of my typical college kid life, both myself and fellow Ocala Power Plant Business Incubator intern, Cliff Craig, are investing our time, passion and energy into creating a movement in our community. What do I mean by that? We're Flipping the Magnet of Ocala. Every community is like a magnet in that it either attracts or repels students. Sadly, many in my generation view Ocala as the negative side of the magnet. The Ocala Power Plant Business Incubator's dream is to change that perspective. 

Our mission is two-fold: identify promising entrepreneurs and help them create successful businesses. Each Spring, nearly 3,000 students graduate from a Marion County High School and go off to college or the workforce. That is awesome and something to truly celebrate. But the story doesn't stop there. Sadly, the majority of those 3,000 aspiring, talented individuals don't return to Ocala, the place they call home. They don't see Marion County as a place of opportunity. 

Talk about a paradigm shift. Opportunity is what you see—or rather, what you choose to see—and I see amazing potential in Ocala. We as a generation must choose to invest in the community that has invested so much into us, step in, and change culture as we know it.

To launch this Flip the Magnet movement, we're hosting a party in the heart of our community at Citizen's Circle on Friday, January 25 at 7:00 PM. Click here for all the details & to RSVP.

To add to my new experiences, I was honored to be a guest on WOCA's radio show, the Voice of Ocala, this week! Thank you Buddy Martin and the team for inviting me to represent the Ocala Power Plant & invite Ocala to partner with us in Flipping the Magnet!

stripping off the rags

I have clothed you with purpose.

Those words make my heart melt. Yesterday, I was reading Beth Moore's book, So Long, Insecurity, and in the particular chapter I was honing in on, Beth focused on Proverbs 31v25: "She is clothed with strength and dignity." Hang tight for a moment while I give some context to my opening statement. She. Is. Clothed. With. Strength. And. Dignity. Here, Beth reveals the fact that the majority of times we feel insecure come from when we feel overexposed...uncovered...at risk for someone to come along and see us for who we really are:

"I have come to a place where I'm willing to be transparent with my insecurity, but I find great relief that human eyes have to see it through the filter—the clothing—of my God-given strength and dignity. I don't have to stand before you or anybody else in total emotional nakedness. I have a scriptural covering that gives me the courage to expose my most personal self."

What I love about this truthful awakening is the fact that I am covered and I am clothed, made complete by God. He prepares me for the occasion before me.

This morning while taking communion at Church of Hope, I spent a few silent moments with God. What took my breath away was what I heard. No, I didn't hear a shout or an audible confirmation through a microphone. But I heard distinctly and clearly one sentence that's been on repeat in my brain since: I have clothed you with purpose.

In that moment, I felt God's future bursting into my present. Just minutes before, I was challenged with one question: what is it that I'm not trusting God in? Ouch. Here is where I usually try to justify my attempts at controlling a destination, when God has, in reality, called me to a direction. Living in the land between is a cocktail of adventure, opportunity, fun, and fear all mingled with emotions that make you feel like you're on a roller coaster. And sometimes that makes me feel overexposed, unprepared, and naked.

But trusting God and brokenness go hand-in-hand. It isn't until I come to the end of me, until I see my roller coaster mixture of fear as it is—a false attempt at control—and place that jumbled mess in the hands of my Creator, that the aroma of me is fully enjoyed. You see, I'm beginning to learn that the stuff to really be enjoyed in life...and I mean the stuff that life is truly made of—real, lasting, genuine joy, hope, love, confidence and strength—is found in brokenness, despair and hurt. I'm no Debbie-Downer and I'm not advocating living in self-degradation. I'm just saying it's time to stop trying to clothe ourselves with decaying, worn-out rags. It's time to strip the rags off and allow Christ to clothe us.

In the wandering of life and in the broken moments of despair, I come to the very end of me. I see me for who I really am and come to truly understand that if Jesus doesn't show up, it's game over. It's in that kind of trust that a joy I can't even explain comes pouring out.

This morning, in my own life, this simply looked like a girl opening up her hands to Jesus, asking Him to fill her. Stripping off my filthy, worn-out rags of fear and control, Jesus reached down, grabbed my hand and whispered, "I have clothed you with purpose." My story is headed somewhere and I'm going to be ok. Do I have the answers to what that somewhere looks like? Nope. The beautiful thing is I don't need them to thrive. I am clothed with purpose. My story is headed somewhere.

there's just something special about seeing your writing in print

Sometimes I just like to hold things. I'm a nerd when it comes to social media and all things technology, but I love the tangible feeling of printed words between my fingers. And today, I held my VERY OWN PUBLISHED WORDS!

I'm extremely excited to have an article featured in Best Version Media's January issue of S.E. Neighbors, a publication in Ocala, Florida.

Best Version Media is an incredible organization based on one principle foundation: sharing people's stories. This month, they shared mine. And I'm deeply honored.

Best Version Media has also given the Ocala Power Plant Business Incubator the opportunity to publish a  monthly  magazine serving as the "hub" for all things innovation in Marion County. As the communications intern at the Ocala Power Plant, I have the privilege of serving as Innovation Ocala Magazine's Content Coordinator and have loved learning the ins and outs of magazine publication as well as the opportunity to share countless stories with my community.

Take a peek at my article below!

Why Ocala? Why Not Ocala?

By: Emily Cummins

With college graduation looming in the horizon, I’m beginning to grow accustomed to the typical questions that keep coming my way; however, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the shock on people’s faces after I tell them my post-graduation plans.

As a 21-year-old, soon-to-be University of Florida graduate, I’m scanning the job market, sifting my passions through available job openings. In the midst of multiple variables, the one thing I’m confident of is that I want to live in Ocala.

This is when I typically receive that shock-and-awe response. Why would a young college graduate want to come back to Ocala? Are there even any opportunities for a young person like me?

Opportunity is what you see. And I see plenty.

Ocala is more than the place I call home. It’s really where I began growing into who I wanted to be. In the middle of my junior year of high school, I moved to Ocala from South Florida. Jumping into classes and the swim team at Forest High School, I quickly began embracing the horse capitol of the world. The idea of living in a thriving community with a small town feel appealed to me, and as high school graduation approached, I didn’t want to leave. After taking a tour of the College of Central Florida (CFCC at the time), I knew I was right where I belonged. Not only was I impressed by the degree of professionalism I saw at CF, but I connected with the school in a way that I haven’t been able to do at any other institution. Memories that I will cherish for a lifetime were made there and I didn’t have to go searching around the world to find them.

Fast-forward to today. I’m standing at a crossroads that could lead in multiple directions. The majority of my friends are pursuing what many perceive to be the “it” career by applying for jobs in New York City, Atlanta, Miami, and Los Angeles. Have I seen incredible opportunities in those places? Absolutely. But my heart just keeps coming back to Marion County.

When I think about the life in front of me, I see an opportunity to make a difference and be a force of change in a place that I love. I want to be a part of something larger than myself and create a sense of culture that many only dream about.

I’m confident that as I walk across that graduation stage in a few short months, I don’t need to go searching for a community that will embrace a young generation seeking to make a difference. I’ve already found it, and I happen to call that place home.

turning Christmas upside-down

I think we've celebrated Christmas all wrong.

Once a year, we focus on giving to those less fortunate, loving the people around us, and spreading holiday cheer. We're jolly and joyful, giving and receiving, fully aware of the needs around us and our ever-increasing personal wish lists.

But on December 26th, we stop. We countdown to Christmas day with the "25 days of Christmas," and  hear messages of giving to charities, however, the day after Christmas, like a light switch we stop caring whether the nonprofit down the street has enough funding to continue to function.

Why is that? I believe we've settled into this unspoken rhythm, a state and cycle of giving when it's convenient to give...and when we're reminded to give; yet when it's not at the fore-front of our minds, we don't often think about words like partnership, giving, investing, and charity.

Jesus wasn't born for a single day. He was born to bring life for all 365 days of the year. I am thankful for that. He doesn't offer me life or hope one day out of the year...he offers it to me continually, day after day, moment after moment.

So, here's my thought: if the point of Christmas is to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, why do we just celebrate the act of birth? Why don't we celebrate and emulate His life?

If we truly celebrated Jesus' life, we would live it...and that would be a life 24/7/365...not just on 12/25.

Why don't we turn Christmas upside-down....or rather, right-side up?

Rather than focusing on partnering with people during the month of December, what if we partnered with people every day? There are people around us who need Hope, and as a follower of Christ, we have Hope continually with us....so why don't we offer it?

What would our world look like if we made Christmas about more than our wish lists? 800 million people in the world don't have access to safe, clean drinking water, yet we spend $3.4 billion on Christmas. Something is disturbingly wrong with this scenario. I don't know about you, but I don't need another pair of running shoes or another sweater I won't wear...but there are people who NEED water to live.

I want to not only celebrate Christ's birth this Christmas, but I want to live it 365. I want to offer Hope to those around me. I want to give something with my life that last longer than a day. That's why I want to turn Christmas upside-down. Rather than focusing on me, me, me, I want to partner with people and really learn to love and care about those around me.

If you've followed my blog in the past, you know that I gave up my 21st birthday to raise money for charity: water. For Christmas, I'm partnering with charity: water to fight the water crisis again. You can too. Click HERE to give a gift that lasts longer than a day, but literally gives life.

"I am a storyteller."

Several months ago in the social media world, I began hearing this buzz about a girl who was leaving letters for strangers in New York City and mailing hundreds of subsequent letters to people she had never met. My attention was instantly piqued, and I just had to learn more about this girl.

You see, I thought writing letters was a dying art form. I thought I was one of the last people on earth who still cherished exchanging correspondence through hand-written form. Don't get me wrong, I'm a social media nerd. In fact, it's an area I'm studying at school. However, there's just something about tangible thoughts on paper that still grips my heartstrings like nothing else can.

Enter Hannah Brencher. What was initially birthed as a form of therapy, became her life mission. "I am not a strategist or a specialist. I am a storyteller," says Hannah. Since leaving letters on the train in NYC, she's sent over 4,200 letters around the world, spreading a message of love and ultimate hope. The stories from Hannah & her organization, The World Needs More Love Letters, are absolutely INCREDIBLE. Rather than trying to re-count what Hannah is passionate about, I'll let her tell you herself. Watch her TED video below:

a story much larger than your average summer vacation

After my 21st birthday campaign with charity: water & visit to their NYC HQ last month, I knew I'd become immersed in a story that would leave me changed...and more passionate about investing my life in the story God is writing than ever before...

I've shared my passion for charity: water's mission with many of my friends in Central Florida and was so excited when I heard that a group of students in Hope Kidz (the kidz ministry at Church of Hope) was about to learn about charity: water & see how they too could partner with them in bringing clean drinking water to the 800 million people on this planet who desperately need it.

This past Sunday, over 27 fourth, fifth, and sixth graders saw a story much bigger than their summer vacation. They saw the reality that there are kids their age in the world who aren't worried about summer homework assignments and trying to fit in one last trip to the beach. Instead, they're worried they will have to watch their baby sister die of dehydration & disease and are crying, desperate for help. Unable to sit idly by, a group of kids in Central Florida decided to do something about it. They embraced what the word "partner" really means and began praying for charity: water, their team, and the kids who need a cup of hope.

That's a story worth immersing yourself in...a story worth living for...a story much larger than your average summer vacation.

Read More...
Why did I give up my 21st birthday for clean drinking water?
Why did Breanne give up her next tattoo for the sake of water?
Why am I partnering with charity: water & what does "partnership" mean?

why I'm partnering with charity: water

My Dad & I at the charity: water HQ with Stacie Zellmer & Kevin Lai

About two months ago, I began to understand the word "partnership" through a completely new lens.

Before my 21st birthday, I decided  to do something different. The big 2-1 usually signifies a liquid-saturated celebration  that leaves you forgetting what you celebrated in the first place. I wanted to remember this milestone, but utilize it to bring life, rather than waste away my own.

I had originally heard about charity: water through a 9-year-old's story. Rachel wanted to give her life away so that other's could, in turn, have life. For her 9th birthday, she set up a birthday campaign with charity: water. After her birthday, Rachel was killed in a tragic card accident. Hearing her story, family, friends & strangers carried on Rachel's legacy in raising over $1.2 million. What started as a dream of raising $300 for a 9th birthday celebration, turned into a much bigger reality than Rachel could have ever dreamed of.

Hearing Rachel's story, I couldn't help but be inspired. I immediately researched what charity: water was all about and instantly bought into their vision of bringing clean, safe drinking water to people in developing countries. I love the 100% model and the fact that I can literally track where my fundraiser's donations are going in complete confidence that every dollar given is released to people in need. In 18 months, I will even receive GPS coordinates and pictures of the LIFE we were able to give to people.

charity: water gives a simple, clear, yet extremely compelling story:

800 million people on the planet don't have access to clean drinking water. Unsafe water and lack of basic sanitation kill more people every year than all forms of violence, including war. We're working to change that. Join us and learn how you can help.

This is partnership at its core. For the past few years, I have seen the word "partner" spring up and didn't quite grasp its true meaning until my 21st birthday. Partnership is coming together. It's going beyond yourself and taking a stand against injustice. It's seen in the faces of friends huddled together in prayer, encouraging messages on donation boards, re-tweets, likes on Facebook, a team in NYC working to make giving clean drinking water a reality, a girl giving up a new tattoo to make a statement with her life, one family building a home for another family who doesn't have one—this is partnership. Once you've tasted something bigger than yourself, you can't help but want to be a part of the story.

I'm stoked about my partnership with charity: water. I couldn't be more excited about what this organization is doing and how I can partner with them. What are you passionate about? Is it giving clean drinking water? Partner with charity: water. Is it rescuing girls enslaved in sex trafficking? Partner with the A21 Campaign. Stoked about building houses for families who don't have anywhere to live? Partner with Habitat for Humanity. These are just a few ideas...find a story bigger than yourself and dive in. You won't be disappointed.

Update on my birthday campaign: I reached my goal! I wanted to give clean drinking water to 21 people for my 21st birthday and you partnered with me in making that dream a reality! Thank you! Stay tuned for more campaigns.

the role religion plays in society

I felt like an intruder, an unwelcome stranger crashing a party. The immediate stares from members of the congregation as I tried to find a seat in the reverently quiet cathedral, confirmed my sneaking suspicions--I was walking in on a community that I didn’t belong to, a community filled with identity, tradition and piety--an identity of which I was no more accustomed to than their community would be with mine. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I began driving to the Queen of Peace Catholic Church for Saturday night Mass, but I did find, without a doubt, a community who’s very ethos centered around devotion, tradition, and a means of social identity.

I made the final right-hand turn off of Highway 200 into the parking lot, parked my car, and walked towards one of the most beautiful buildings in Ocala. As I hurried through the rain, I began to take notice of the others scurrying in beside me and I quickly realized that I was about to step into a completely different generation’s religious community. Shaking tiny water droplets off my shoulders, I pushed open the front doors and ate in the silence like a piece of chocolate cake. One scan of the room confirmed my earlier suspicions...I was the youngest, single individual in the room. Walking as quietly as possible to a middle row, I sat down and began to observe what those around me were doing. Two older men in their late sixties dressed in baby blue slacks and white dress shirts, shared a camaraderie of memories as they whispered about their week. The middle-aged woman several seats over from me watched the crowd as she pulled a thin blanket around her knees. The room held a condensed silence--or somewhat holy attitude while awaiting the beginning of Mass. 

Architecturally, the church was beautifully established. Its stone floor echoed every movement and bounced each stray sound off its high ceilings. Colorful paintings adorned the creamy walls pointing towards the front, where a gorgeous stained-glass piece of art in the form of Christ on the cross framed the area the Priest and worship leader were sitting. Three sections of pews bordered the front of the church, almost forming a cross with the stained-glass depiction of Christ.

As Mass began, I quickly learned to watch those around me and tried to keep up. In a small pamphlet, the order and designated readings for the day were outlined along with the congregation’s responses. The Priest greeted us by saying, “The Lord be with you.” We then responded, “And with your spirit.” Before the Priest delivered a message, or teaching, we as a congregation sang hymns and listened as the Priest read from Exodus 24:3-8, Hebrews 9:11-15, and Mark 14:12-16 and verses 22-26. The Priest then  rose and lifted the Word of God. As a congregation, we also rose in reverence as he walked to the pulpit. Once seated, we listened as the Priest opened his time with a question, “Why are we here?” He continued to unpack the Catholic beliefs regarding why they gather as a community of believers. He stated that they gather to celebrate the Passover and honor the Lord. Interestingly, everything done prior to the Priest’s teaching was in direct accordance with what he was communicating--everything pointed to honoring the Lord in an effort to clear and check one’s conscience and worship God.   

Mass was conducted by strict rituals and pattern-like behavior. To an outsider, knowing when to stand or what words to say at the appropriate time felt as confusing as trying to drive in the pouring rain without windshield wipers. However, as I watched those around me, I saw that they observed Mass with a reverence and pride that drew me into the beauty they were aiming to achieve--honoring the Lord. The two elderly men in front of me turned and blessed me after a hymn and nodded at each other congenially. They rarely needed to look at the provided verbal cues or watch nearby worshippers to know when to stand or sit. Their bodies moved methodically for them, showing years of dedication and observed tradition.

As the Priest continued, he also explained the meaning of the altar. The altar is a reminder that we are a people of a new covenant and under a new, higher priest, the Lord Jesus. He explained that the Priest always kisses the alter in reverence to the Lord. The eucharist was then explained as love broken and poured out for many. Rather than a depressing symbol of Jesus’ broken body, the eucharist is a celebration of unbroken memory in a memorial to Christ. In a counter clock-wise fashion, each aisle proceeded towards the front of the church to receive the eucharist. Kneeling in front of the priest, the priest would then place a wafer in the open palm of the receiver. I followed those in front of me and knelt before the Priest. After he handed me the wafer, I paused, waiting for the woman next to me to receive her’s. The Priest, sensing my uncertainty, subtly pointed to my wafer and then to his lips, nodding for me to partake in the ceremony. After taking the eucharist, I walked back to my seat for the closing prayers. Kneeling on the altar in front of me, I observed those surrounding me as they recited their responses and reverently acknowledged God. With the final blessing, the crowd filed out of the room in hushed tones. Several lingered, looking at paintings and talking with old friends. As I prepared to leave, I spoke with the Priest who served the eucharist and he blessed me on the way out the door.

As I walked to my car, my mind drifted towards what I had seen and experienced in the last hour and began comparing that with the past 21 years of Baptist and Non-Denominational experiences I have had. First, I noted that tradition facilitated the experience. Rarely did a person signal for us to stand or speak. The congregation knew what to do and when to do it. On the contrary, in the Baptist and Non-Denominational experiences I have been accustomed to, a pastor, speaker or worship leader vocally cues the congregation when to sit or stand. Second, I observed that the rituals that had taken place in Mass were directly related to their formal beliefs and explained by the Priest. Everything had a meaning or purpose and all tied into the central theme of honoring the Lord with a clear conscience as a community of believers. Before each individual entered and left the row they sat in, they put their right leg behind their left and did a slight bow. They also honored the mention of Mary or Saints with the Sign of the Cross. The individual was de-emphasized and the congregation as a whole participated in unison. As seen in history, the congregation embraced a docile, submissive behavior in accordance with the view that Jesus was a suffering Savior. In my background, reverence and acts within the service aren’t always directly correlated to honoring the Lord as a spiritual community. Individually, many perform different acts in reverence, such as lifting their hands in worship, but as a central, unified body of believers, we do not always symbolically portray our beliefs. 

My mind couldn’t help but think about the social composition of the evening. I was surrounded with a primarily elderly congregation--middle class, World War II veterans--and roughly three families with children, who seemed to be of a middle class status as well. The church I regularly attend is a generational mix of veterans, twenty-somethings, and everyone in-between. The elderly dominated Mass put a different perspective on traditional rituals than the diverse environment I am accustomed to. I began to see the importance this group placed on both tradition and obtaining a social identity. I felt like an outsider stepping in on a private matter because I didn’t fit the natural mold for this community--those who found their identity in the traditional rituals they were following. Queen of Peace serves as a reference point for this generational community--similar to the Irish and German Parishes in the mid-nineteenth century, a sense of community and meaning had been adopted in the hearts of the people.

The congregation also portrayed similar aspects of Devotional Catholicism practiced prior to the 1960s. Socially and psychologically, this group looks to their religious community for their social identity as they struggle against society’s discrimination of age, politics, and feeling as outcast outsiders in American society today. In a changing 21st century America, middle-class World War II veterans and Baby Boomers utilize the Catholic Church as a means of social identity.

What began as an awkward first dance with Catholicism, ended with a broader understanding of the psychology of a group of people struggling to find an identity in an ever-changing 21st century American society. The sense of devotion, tradition and identity found within the confines of Saturday night Mass empowered a generation to feel connected and allowed a 21-year-old to see the role religion plays in providing a social setting for our lives in the confines of a larger American society.