Transparency, and Other Risks

The internet is forever. So is publishing a book.

A few weeks ago, a good friend from this season of life picked up the books I wrote while still in Africa. And my heart felt like it plummeted straight through the floor.

I don’t regret writing those books. I am absolutely grateful for generosity of my publisher, my editors who taught me how to craft a manuscript, and all that I have learned from the experience. The stories I told were true and accurate to the best of my ability— and I would not trade them for the world. I cherish my years in Africa. And I am completely humbled by the way readers have been encouraged by the lessons shared in those pages.

Those books were a reflection of where I was at the time, thoughts shared with a very specific audience for a specific purpose. But they were also a time capsule of the echoes of the brokenness of the box that then framed my world, the voices that shaped the movement I was in, and the theology that was held sacrosanct within it.

Words are permanent things once they escape onto pages. Snapshots of where we were when they were written. A measuring notch on the wall reminding us how far we have grown beyond them. And that too is humbling.

Transparency is a dangerous risky choice. Letting your journey be seen by others. I get it. It can be terrifying. But it’s the only way for our hearts to become fully alive.

I’ve been hesitant to write here, holding a part of my own heart at bay, lest these words be judged by a structure I am no longer a part of.

But coming up on the year anniversary of my Mom’s death, it really is time to talk more about the things that have been rooting deep in my soul. Some for well over a decade.

I have a renewed push not just to spill words at the edges of my days, but to write consequential things. Things that give you permission to ask questions that stretch your comfort zones. To move deeper than accepting easy answers and farther out from the four familiar walls around you.

I’m not here to give you my answers. I’m here to provoke you to ask your own questions. And I hope find more of who you are in the process.