Creative Change

2016 has been a beast of a year. 

To say that I'm excited to see it gone is an understatement.

Although I know there's no magic spell or divine release that happens at midnight on New Years, there is an overarching perspective shift that sweeps across the globe.

There's a strong sense of hope, a strong sense of change and the possibility of change.

But you know what change requires?

OWNERSHIP. 

Change requires action.
Change requires work.
Change requires sweat and tears.
Change requires attention. Intentionality. Energy.

Change can kind of really suck sometimes.

Occasionally it's good, rarely it's easy, and mostly it hurts.

For me, 2016 has been a year of intense change.

From moving across the country to across the globe--2016 has growled its teeth at me and I wish I could say every time I stood in defiance, but honestly, I usually hid in my own little pitiful cave of depression and defeat.

I wish I could say every time I looked to my word of the year, "Trust" (ironic, huh?) and calmly rested in the embrace of my Savior.

Can I be honest, though?

Really, I haven't trusted that much.

I know many of you are living what you think are "simple, humble lives" working "every day jobs" or simply "going to school" while I'm off in this great, foreign unknown adventure fighting against one of the most devastating industries in our world, but really? I'm just like you.

I wake up often overwhelmed by the world and my heavy emotions.

I get tired, discouraged and each time I think I've overcome something I feel like I'm drowning in it again a week later.

Life is hard. Life is tiring. Life wears you down.

And if I hear one more person say the generic Christian answer, "just spend more time with Jesus," I think I might just punch them in the face.

You wanna know what's been my grace?

What has helped me and inspired me to keep going and keep fighting when I see nothing but dark ahead of me?

Creativity. 

...I bet you didn't see that answer coming, huh?

You're probably shocked. You're probably thinking, "What?! She's a Christian, evangelical missionary! How is her answer not Jesus?! The answer is always Jesus!"

But hear me out.

I love Jesus. I deeply love Him.
He's the reason I moved across the country then across the globe.
He's the reason a changed degrees from Psychology to Ministry Studies and have a passion for people to live emotionally free lives (isn't funny how He always seems to call us to encourage others to fight against the very things we've battled the most?).
He's the reason I get out of bed in the morning and choose to keep fighting.

But He's provided me with something amazing, an essential part of His very own nature; He's given me, and every person, the ability to create. 

There's something special about putting paint to a canvas, music in the air or words on a page. A heavenly exchange happens. Revelation is given. Life is created. Battles are fought. Love embodies a physical representation.

Opportunities for me to create have been drastically broadened these past 12 months and I am so thankful.

Without the evenings to paint, the accessible guitars and pianos and journals to write in I think I would have gone insane.

Creativity, as fluid as it is, has been my bedrock this past year. 

Because Jesus, revealing Himself through pictures, people, sounds and words has not only given me the energy to push forward but the hope and joy to keep going. 

I have loved not boxing Jesus into a routine but letting Him show me how big and diverse He truly is.

I have loved being inspired by Him.

I have loved being healed by Him.

I have loved being known by Him.


I have loved letting Him simultaneously be my Anchor and Compass through the winds of change. 

I still need to have my hands on the wheel and take responsibility over my surrounding waters; change, like the rest of life, requires us to be present and active and make choices.
In this sea called Life I'm still the first mate of my ship, but He is ultimately the Captain and I can rest in that He knows where to go.

Unknown horizons are always ahead, change is always happening. Hard things happen. That's life.

But our Blessed Assurance is always there giving us new inspirations and gifts to keep leading us home. To keep leading us to Him and to love.

I'm thankful He has given us creativity as an ocean to sail with Him and navigate to Him.


Change can come at me.
Hardships only have as much power as I choose to give them.

I know Who has the victory.
He's had it in 2016 already does in 2017.

All I have to do is keep listening, keep steering, keep creating, and keep living love.


Jesus, 

Your power in victory encourages me to keep fighting, sailing and creating. 
You are the only reason I am still here. You are the very breath in my lungs and I choose to continue to humble myself to be inspired by You through creativity and Your character in those around me. 

Thank you for not being ordinary and stationary. 
Thank you for being in the change yet still incredibly steadfast. 

I am thankful for your faithfulness and continual creative nature. 

I love you. 

Love,
Hanna



The above photos are simple, unedited photos from my Iphone of the waters I came across on my visit to America this month. From the waterway and rivers of Southeast Virginia to the waterfalls, lakes and ocean bays of Northwest Washington, my visit home has been a wonderful time of being encouraged and inspired by family, friends and nature.

Knowing to be Known

"To Know God and Make Him Known."

That is the centralized motto of the worldwide missions organization I work with--Youth With A Mission.

My organization is busy sending people from the nations to the nations and training them to do so to others.

It's a beautiful thing, and it works. Which is why in the past 50 years YWAM has developed into the largest mission organization in the world.

But there's a funny thing that happens when you're out on mission and being trained that YWAM never mentions in its vision and mission statements or core values.

They never mention that when you intentionally go forth into knowing God and making him known, it will be the biggest journey of intimacy, vulnerability and battling insecurities you've ever faced.

They never mention it'll be one of the hardest, most uncomfortable yet best things you've ever done in your life.

They never mention you'll cry more than ever while simultaneously laugh more, too.

As many of you know, Amsterdam has been one of the most challenging phases of my life.

...and I thought Thailand was hard with it's farm labor, mosquitoes and literal demons.

Yet I've found this beautiful Dutch city has a sneaky way of getting inside your head and bringing out the unbeautiful; of making you isolate yourself. Of making you believe every insecurity to ever cross your mind. Of making you think you don't matter, won't make a difference, have no purpose and are only known for your faults.

It senses any trace of insecurity and illuminates it with spotlights, flashing neon signs and billboards until you are totally overwhelmed by it.
I know this sounds extreme, but it's something that plagues our city, and it's something even nonbelievers will admit.

In this last year, a fellow YWAMer of mine met with a majority of the Amsterdam Pentacostal pastors and asked this question, "What do you think is the biggest issue our city faces?"

Their answer?

"Loneliness."

Every. Single. Pastor.
Every one quickly gave that same answer without ever consulting one another. That's how obvious loneliness is in this liberal, modern metropolis of over 800,000 "free, happy, hippy" people.

And what causes this city, and ourselves, to isolate in loneliness?
It's believing and acting upon what I mentioned above; it's believing your insecurities are who you are, that you don't matter, won't make a difference and have no purpose because you are only known for your faults.

But oh, dear heart, how that is not true!

You are good for people, and you are good for God. God designed and formed you and said "it is good."

For He "loves you with an everlasting love, therefore [He] has extending his faithfulness to you." (Jer. 31:3, ESV)

You've been through it. You've seen and experienced the nastiness of this world but that is not who you are. 

In John Eldridge's book, Waking the Dead, he claims our hearts are good.
Have they been afflicted? Lied to? Misused and abused? Absolutely. There is a battle between good and evil going on for our hearts everyday.
Nonetheless, our hearts are still good.
Because God resides in our hearts. Our hearts are the Holy of Holies because of Christ; we are the temple. And God can't reside in a place unless it's 100% good.

Broken? Yes. Beautiful? Yes. Good? Yes. 

So if all this is true, and even if we know God and know who Christ is, why do so many Christians still struggle with isolation?
Because love hurts and vulnerability isn't easy, and we think because we've lived broken we aren't worth being loved so we don't let ourselves fully relate with others.

We tell ourselves, "I don't hit the mark, I'm not as smart, pretty or witty as them, so why would they want to be with me? Let alone desire to be with me?"

Yet Donald Miller once wrote something I kind of really like:

"If our identity gets broken, it affects our ability to connect. And I wonder if we're not all a lot better for each other than we previously thought. I know we're not perfect, but I wonder how many people are withholding the love they could provide because they secretly believe they have fatal flaws" (Scary Close, 129).

"I wonder if we're not all a lot better for each other than we previously thought."

Beloved, what lies are you believing that cause you to isolate yourself and not live in freedom and vulnerability? 

What lies are you believing that keep you bound and not living fully alive? 

(Remember, chains can feel awful comfortable sometimes).

It's true, vulnerability and living exposed is scary and can be very painful (just look at the cross), but “the only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell” (C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves).

Intimacy is scary. Vulnerability isn't safe. But both are so good. 

 
 
This has been my journey these past ten months. 

As I've been out on mission to know God and make Him known in Amsterdam, all while He has turned the tables and instead wants me to know myself and be known by others. 

...in an incredibly dangerous, intimate, yet healthy way. 

Is it hard? 

Oh, yes. 

I've had to look at those insecurities and lies right in the face (literal faces, at times) and speak Christ-truth and authority over them. Several times. 

Is it scary?

Certainly. 

I've had to remind myself of the goodness of loving without expectation; to love without getting anything back--and actually being okay with it. 

Is it worth it?

Absolutely.  

These past few months have been the most emotional of my life, but it's in that place of deep healing and feeling I can love bigger and better. 

My ministry and friendships have shifted as I've grown to know more about God, myself and my need for others and their need for me. 

So, dear heart, will you join me in this journey of intimacy and vulnerability? 

Will you join me in battling the lies and speaking truth? 

Will you join me in loving big and accepting love in return? 

Will you join me in learning again, what it means to live fully alive? 

Although I've only started this journey I can tell you already it's worth it, because Jesus is in it. 

And there is nothing that satisfies more than being intimate with the Creator and Lover of your soul. 

Jesus, your display of incredible vulnerability on the cross inspires me to lay myself bare and bloody before others because that's what they need--just like how I also desperately needed your bare and bloody love. 

Thank you for being the security in contrast to my insecurities. For being my number-one cheerleader, and for bringing radical healing. 

And thank you for loving me so intensely, and for giving me the bravery to love others the same. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Hanna 

   

The above photos are pictures of Antwerp, Belgium and a canal in Amsterdam that I took last month while my parents were visiting...isn't Amsterdam gorgeous in the fall?! I love it :)



 

Ferociously Kind

I've been thinking about kindness a lot lately...

Especially in ministry.

When I tell people about what I do in Amsterdam--evangelizing to men and women working in the Red Light District--people's eyes often widen with interest and a type of awe. I can tell they're probably picturing my team and I kicking down brothel doorways releasing the captive into physical and spiritual freedom.

But I can tell you now, that is far from what it looks like.

All it is, really, is worship, prayer and walking through the tourist-drenched streets and alleys offering the women and men humble cups of warmth and conversation.

Do some workers accept prayer? Yes!
Do some decide to leave the work and seek restoration? Yes!
Do some decide to commit their lives to Jesus? Yes!!

But what does it look like on the day-to-day?

It looks like a ferocious, Jesus-type of kindness.

It looks like kicking down the walls of spiritual strongholds in the district through praying at The Tabernacle--YWAM Amsterdam's House of Prayer. 

It looks like glorifying Jesus' Name through cooperate worship with our international congregation of staff and students. 

It looks like going from window to window several times a week, asking the women and men to pull back their scarlet curtain so we can tell them about the Scarlet that forever tore the curtain. 

It looks like perseverance despite discouragement. 
It looks like rejoicing when Holy Spirit acts miraculously. 
It looks like bowing on humble knee in the early hours submitting to Holy Spirit for guidance. 

It looks simple. 

Sometimes it even seems insufficient, especially when you see that despite years of Saints praying and caring in this city there's still women hiding hearts and exposing flesh behind distorted glass. 

However, last week I was told that success in the Kingdom doesn't look like numbers or results--its looks like obedience and love; it looks like kindness.

And that is what makes ministry powerful...

Kindness.

It isn't flashy, but it is SO important. 

For God draws us all in with His loving kindness (Jer. 31:3). 
Because Love is kind (1 Cor. 13:4), and God is Love (1 John 4:8). 

Therefore, God is Kind.
He is oh, so ferociously Kind.

And for that very reason, I also want to be ferociously kind. 

Because I want to be like Jesus. 

Jesus, Your incredible kindness inspires me to love simply and powerfully through kind words and actions. 
Thank you for loving me--and all of humanity--so ferociously. 

I want to love more like You. 

Love, 
Hanna 


I wrote this post in my journal while praying over the district the other day. I was praying for a woman who recently chose to leave the windows and fly home (praise Jesus), but my heart was breaking for the workers who are still trapped in desperation and confusion. 
Please continue to pray for my team and I as we go into the district several times a week sharing the love of Jesus with the men and women there. 

Also, the pictures are simple city captures from my new room in YWAM's downtown building, Samaritan's Inn. I'm so happy to be living where I feel called--the heart of the city.

Inspirational Profile: Stephanie Semiday

I think I can rightly argue that sisterhood is one of the best gifts given to us in this life...

When it's centered on Christ and drenched in love it's one of the most up-building relationships we can have. 

A true sister is a permanent best friend.
A permanent support.
No matter where life takes you. No matter what oceans, life-experiences, hopes, heartbreaks and joys wedge themselves between; the drawing force of a true sisterhood remains. 

At least, I'm blessed to say that is my experience.

This is my sister, Stephanie:

 

Gorgeous, am I right?

She's one of my two absolutely lovely and adoring sisters.

She has probably the most joyous and carefree spirit of anyone I know...

She is a prayer warrior; a fighter. But she doesn't fight with a tough aggression--she fights with joy and lightness. She battles with the polar-opposite weapon of her enemy. She fights with Christ-identity and freedom. 

I am proud to call this woman my best friend.

Although that was not always the case for our relationship, I am so thankful God healed and redeemed our sisterhood because she has been such a gift to me.

He knew I'd need her to do life with. 

Jesus knew having her in Virginia the past three years was going to be essential for my heart and spirit.

Jesus knew I would need her smiling face to turn my frown upside-down.
He knew I'd need someone to cry, laugh, occasionally argue with, apologize to and often rejoice with.
He knew that I'd need piece of home with me as I learned, related and grew 3,000 miles away from familiarity.
He knew I'd need a caring voice to tell me "Hanna, you can do this. You can tackle these questions, you can write that daunting paper, you can heal through these hurts."

He knew I'd need someone to help point me back to Him when He was the last place I was looking to.

Stephanie, you are one of the most dearest people to my heart. 
I'm in tears as I write this because I miss your lovely heart so much.

I am so thankful to call you my best friend and sister.

Your joyous strength inspires me to push through when the last thing I want to do is dance upon disappointment. 

You have taught me to love when it doesn't make sense, and to hope even when I can't see more than two steps ahead of me.

I miss you, dear, dear sister.
Thank you for always inspiring me through your deep love for Jesus, your husband, daughter, family, friends and for myself. 

You truly are one of my biggest gifts and inspirations. I am eternally grateful for you in my life.

I love you.

Much love from your little sis,
Hannie Bananie

Take Heart

So you know that passage in John 16 where Jesus talks about how He has overcome the world?

If you don't, here it is to refresh your memory:

"I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33, ESV). 

If you look at that verse in my handy-dandy and absolutely adored ESV Bible, you'll notice some words are highlighted and underlined by about 6 different pens. It's been one of those staple verses in my life; one of those comforting ones I go to when I'm anxious, restless and confused.

I'd instantly jump to words such as, "peace" and the phrase, "take heart; I have overcome..."

I'd think, "Yes! Yes! He has overcome! I can have courage! I can have peace!" But I didn't pay much attention to the phrase "in me" and that daunting word, "tribulation."

But these past couple of months have been hard...

I went from a high mountain to an incredibly deep valley. The valley contained wounds I didn't even know I had, and once I felt like they were healing I'd trip over something and the wound would burst open again even worse than it was before.

A couple weeks ago, I was on a walk and said (somewhat fearfully), "Okay, Lord. I'm here. What do you want to expose and say to me now? Just be careful, because I'm the most raw I've ever been and don't think I can handle any more exposed wounds."

And what did I hear?

"Hanna, I love you..." 

{One: Identity. I know God is speaking to me when He first states my identity. Usually saying "I love you", "beloved", or my favorite, "darling."}

"...I'm healing you." 

{Two: He states the Truth about the situation even when I don't see it yet. In that moment, I felt anything but healed; anything but okay. Yet He still said the truth--"I'm healing you."}

"...thank you for stripping yourself of everything, now let me give some things back to you." 

Thank you? ...Thank you?

Really, God?

You're thanking me for my wounds and inability to cope? You're thanking me for the nights I spent yelling at You in anger and confusion? You're thanking me for the times I chose other comforts over you? You're thanking me for listening to the lies and giving up on the battles and coming to the end of my rope?

"...thank you for stripping yourself."

He wasn't exactly thanking me for the process of stripping myself--although He's been there through the whole thing--He was thanking me for my vulnerability. 

Isn't that what Christ did?

When the ultimate battle came--when the world showed it's hate, what did he do?  
He stripped himself. 

Stripped himself of all honor, dignity and self-ownership. And was it painful?
OH, YES.
He was beaten, whipped and nailed to a cross. He died. He literally died.

And when the beatings came--the tribulation came--what did he bleed?
His own rights? His "right" to happiness, stability, joy and comfort?

Nope.
He bled forgiveness.
He bled acceptance.
He bled a deep trust in His Father.
He bled not just a belief that God is always good but a deep knowledge and understanding that God is good despite the pain.

But most of all, He bled LOVE. 

When the tribulations come, when the beatings come, when I'm stripped of all comforts and of things I think are good; I don't want to bleed anger, confusion and mistrust. I want to bleed adoption-identity, I want to bleed fruits of the Spirit...I want to bleed Love. 

I want to bleed Jesus. 

So. Is everything in my life okay now?
No.
I still have much healing ahead of me.
But do I have more peace than I did three weeks ago?
Absolutely.
Why? Because IN HIM we can have peace.
Because when tribulations come--He has overcome and taken the keys of death so we can always say "God is good" and we can bleed Jesus because He already bled over us 2000 years ago.

Jesus, You're vulnerability that led to victory inspires me and gives me courage to continue to be vulnerable to You so I can celebrate victory with You. 

Thank You for bleeding Your love over me so I can have peace and bleed love on others--even when it hurts and doesn't always make sense.

And thank You for carrying me and caring for me.
Thank You that You shower me with gifts; with family, friends, support--the chance to travel. You are a good, good Father who gives good gifts. You are the Restorer of joy and the Giver of freedom.

And I love You, oh Lover of my Soul. 

Love, 
Hanna


The above photographs are from my trip to Edinburgh, Scotland last week. God gave me the gift of being able to spend a few days with my VA church family on their mission trip...it was an incredible time, and as you can tell--Scotland is gorgeous.