christianity – Darkk Horse Travel

Time to Move Mountains – Rise Up Women of the U.S.A

Published on November 9, 2016January 10, 2017 by EmileeLeave a comment

I grew up in a passionately Republican family; one that was racist, homophobic and expressed bigotry on a regular basis. Does this represent all Republicans? No. I am simply telling my story.

Needless to say, this morning when I rolled out of bed to the results of the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election, I didn’t have to “imagine” how people could have voted for Trump. I knew from 18 years of first-hand experience. The power of fear should not be underestimated.

That being said, of course, I was upset with the outcome. As a woman, and a person of color, how could I not be? The next four years are going to be challenging in ways I’ve never had to experience in my lifetime. But whether we want to admit it or not, hate racism and bigotry have all been in the Whitehouse, before.

Women of the United States of America, it’s time for us to rise up.

This post isn’t about right or left or red or blue. It’s about what’s next for us.

I currently live in a city that’s more liberal than most. We try (although, we have work to do) to understand equality and promote it among the people living here. We try. We’re not perfect, and we are on a journey, but we try. I realize that other parts of the country are not this way. Perhaps this election was, if nothing else, a beacon to shine a light on that fact. We are a broken people. We are a broken nation. We are a nation who has been taken in by the false god of fear.

This morning, as I stared at a map filled with red colored states, I tried to wrap my mind around the numbers, the statistics and how exactly this happened. I love analytics. But this was different. Something didn’t feel right. How did the statistics for women voting slide so strongly toward a man who embodies everything we fight so hard against?

Perhaps this is another lesson: the gaps in American equality are not just a problem created by men.

Over the course of the past months we have seen our President-elect slander women again and again. The list of offenses is egregious. Regardless of your stance, the facts are that he’s currently facing, and has formerly been accused of, rape charges.

So why did we, as women, vote for him?

To be honest, I don’t have an answer, but I do know what this points to — a culture where we, as women, are hurting.

A stroll through any history book will show you that existence has never been easy for women. We’ve been raped, defaced, tortured, slandered and brutally killed in our journey for equal rights. And while perhaps not as prevalent in certain parts of the world, these treatments are not just something from the past. And for those of us in the “free” world: Our ballots are our testimonies.

What can we even do to move forward?
You probably already know what I’m going to say.

Ladies, it’s time for us to rise up.

It is time for us to speak life, encouragement and power over the next generation, and the generations who came before us. It’s time to embrace a culture that lifts women up, rather than tearing each other down. It’s time for us to introduce ourselves to our neighbors; to hug and care for those who are grieving or in pain.

This is not about politics, I don’t care what side of the “fence” you are, or have been, on. This election is showing us the very real truth behind what airbrushed magazine covers and bright Hollywood lights have done to us. Our nation is crying out for justice. We are hurting. We are stumbling. We are searching for anything to heal our brokenness — even if that means destroying ourselves in the process.

Ladies, it is time for us to rise up.

The next four years will not be easy. Probably for all of us, but it will most certainly be harder for some.

To my sisters who are getting ready for the storm — I stand with you. I will love you. I will protect you. I will speak for you. I will defend you.

Because you are worthy. You are wonderfully made. You are beautifully whole. You are an inspiration. You are valid. You are strong. You are brilliant. You are made for great things. You are powerful. You are so much more than any title.

And we? Together we are immovable, unbreakable and our story will live as long as the stars shine.

Rise up.

An Hour Of Wolves, And Shattered Shields

Published on February 20, 2015February 20, 2015 by Emilee3 Comments

Happy Lent, everyone! For all of you who are observing it, stick in there – it WILL be worth it! For those of you who aren’t, have fun watching us for the next 40 days.

For those of you who aren’t of the Christian persuasion, I guess I should probably tell you about Lent.

“Ok, Google – cheat for me:”

Lent is a 40-day period of preparation for Easter Sunday and one of the major liturgical seasons of the Church. A penitential season marked by prayer, fasting and abstinence, and almsgiving, Lent begins on either Ash Wednesday (for Latin Rite Catholics and those Protestants who observe Lent) or Clean Monday (for Eastern Rite Catholics and Eastern Orthodox) and ends on either Holy Thursday or Holy Saturday.

Lent comes in many different forms. Some people give up food as a community, some people fast (or give up) things they feel like they’re placing before their spiritual lives (maybe you’ve seen some people bowing off social media) and others do none of the above. Like me.

To clarify – yes, I am fasting. But this year I felt like I needed to do something a little different.

Enter dramatic pause

So, I’ve decided to do a 40 day negativity fast (#notreallyworthadramaticpause).

Rather than Googling what this “means” I’ll tell you what it means to me.

The Bible has a lot to say about how Christians interact with the world around them. There are verses about loving, about caring, about serving – and then the ones we’re not quite as eager to discuss: The ones about turning the other cheek.

This is not a green light for people to come and punch me in the face, because for the next 40 days I won’t punch you back. I will punch you back.

What I’m talking about is on a spiritual level.

See, I’m a fighter by nature.
When I was little, more than anything, I wanted to be an Amazon woman (thanks for the documentary, PBS). I wanted to fight in battles, and conquer kingdoms and learn epic archery skills (the last of which I did start). I wanted to fight. I’ve always wanted to fight.

And it took me a really long time, as Christian, to realize that’s okay.

I think a common misconception about Christianity is that women are supposed to be these meek and gentle creatures sitting in the corner knitting.

And while I do knit, and I love its cathartic values, that’s not my idea of the life of faith for a woman.

NOTE: Being meek, gentle and sweet are NOT bad things, for those who are naturally that way.

But I’m not.

I’ve always preferred to think of myself as someone who follows more the example of the biblical Deborah. For those of you who don’t know the story, think badass awesome chick who leads armies and generally dominates at life, because men aren’t stepping up to the plate. (Judges 4)

But something to remember, even for us fighters, is that there are times when you need to find peace in the uncomfortable places or times God calls you to. Sometimes, we reach a season of needing to learn trust.

“The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Exodus 14:14

A great, totally hypothetical, example of this is when you’re, I don’t know – living in a foreign place, and being COMPLETELY out of your comfort zone. Exhibit A: My life.

For me, natural instinct says to kick and scream and punch people (metaphorically) – but God tells me to rest.

So I sit.

I “rest”.

I pout.

I complain.

*For the record, sitting in a corner complaining isn’t finding rest in a situation.

France has been hard, harder than I ever could have imagined. But it’s in this place that God has told me, for now, to rest. And over the past few months I have been doing the very minimal value of that.

More than anything I’ve been complaining, I’ve been self-pitying and I’ve been finding every excuse to sit on my bible, rather than read it. Because, hey – I’ve been through a lot (factual). I deserve to be able to curl up in a ball and listen to angsty music!

But if God wanted me to listen to angsty music for a year, I think he would have given me a time machine back to my high school self, not told me to move 5000 miles away from home.

So, with this in mind, I’ve decided to dedicate my Lent period of time to fixing the deep seeded problem that has become my perspective on my life.

Where there is self-pity, I will look to serve others.

Where there is anger, I’m seeking peace and self-reconciliation.

When I want to outwardly project my fears and insecurities, I will take them instead, and leave them at the feet of my Saviour.

Where there is doubt, I’m remembering the promises that brought me to this place.

And where there is winey-ass (sorry mom) me, I will remember that there is purpose to every breath I am given.

Lent started on Wednesday, so I’m only a few days in, but I can already tell you one thing – it IS NOT easy. Human nature wants to complain. Why? Because, to be honest, it feels good. And it’s societally acceptable. Just look at how many social media outlets we’re given to FML our lives.

But my challenge, over the next month is to remember where I came from, and who fought on my behalf to bring me here.

It wasn’t by accident that I landed in Paris for a year – no one accidently lands in Paris for a year. This year was a pretty hefty detour from what I had “planned”, but that doesn’t mean I’m not on the path I’m supposed to be on.

So, join me, will you? Let’s strive to look at our lives and the world around us with a different lens. Let’s begin to uncover and unmask the places in our hearts that have brought us into areas of complaint, instead of action. And most of all – let’s fight a good fight.

The Adventures That Never Happened

Published on March 21, 2014March 21, 2014 by Emilee2 Comments

Writing in London, England — Scribbling in London, England

Traveling doesn’t always “just happen.” Sometimes, life gets in the way. Plans change; the ‘rug’ gets pulled out from under your feet. And while posting solely about positive experiences is fun, and makes my life look beautifully airbrushed, it’s not realistic.

The facts are: sometimes I feel like God’s directions for my life are like a GPS that drives you into a lake, instead of to your destination. There are times when I’ve wanted so badly to go somewhere that I sat on my bed crying. Times I’ve been tugged in one direction, and then detoured a different way – my soul feeling whip-lashed.

But when this happens, I challenge myself to change my perspective. Yes, maybe the road turned out to be a roundabout, and that’s really frustrating when I thought I was going somewhere new.

But, sometimes, God uses déjà-vu situations to remind us of his promises before he takes us to bigger and better things.

Like, when I was picking a university to transfer to. I thought of applying to so many schools in so many amazing places (London, Norway, Tennessee) that when I got into my first pick I was elated. But, as quickly as they had been made, plans changed just weeks before school started, and I ended up at a university in my hometown of Seattle, instead. I was so upset that I didn’t get to go somewhere new or exotic. But, looking back now, I realize that I was placed exactly where I needed to be, to grow into the person I am now.

An ongoing lesson I’m learning is that there aren’t really “wrong” paths. When you come to a crossroads, sometimes you just have to trust that you’re following the GPS, and take a chance. Life is filled with different decisions, learning experiences, mistakes and successes – and, sometimes, making the decision to take a step forward is the hardest part. Especially if the answer to where to go next isn’t even on your radar.

For instance, when I was trying to decided where to move after living in California, I didn’t sleep for weeks. I had no idea what direction to head in. But, as the deadline neared, Georgia kept popping in my mind. Finally, I decided to visit my family there (people I barely knew), and the minute I bought the plane ticket, I had complete peace from all the anxiety I had been experiencing.

The whole time I had been freaking out about whether to move back to Seattle or stay in California, the answer was actually to do neither. Visiting my family, at that time, was exactly where I needed to be. Eventually I did come back to Seattle, but it was important for me to pick up a few life tools on the way. Learning to value family (no matter how estranged) and the beauty of my heritage, was a lesson I needed to realize before I could move forward in my life here.

Sometimes, the longest detours are the most direct routes to the future successes we have awaiting us on the horizon.

I’ve known my entire life that I wanted to go to the UK/Ireland (when I was 10 I BEGGED my mom to take me to Riverdance to feed my addiction – which she did), but it took me FOUR TRIES to actually get there. Not because I wasn’t putting forth effort, believe me I was, but because life consistently just didn’t allow me to go.

On my way back from India, I thought about running away the entire time I was stuck in the Heathrow airport (layover). My 18 year old self felt so drawn to the UK, and it broke my heart when I boarded the US bound plane, after being so close.

The next year, after I graduated, I immediately started thinking about how I could get to the UK/Ireland. Every year, for three years I had people say they would go with me, only to pull out last minute. It was the most frustrating experience to repeatedly have to shelve my plans to travel. But, ultimately, I valued my trip so much more when I actually got the chance to go. And, in addition, I was empowered by striking out on my own to get there.

Sometime it takes a while to get where we want to go. And sometimes we never get there at all.

When I was in high school there was a church trip to Uruguay that I wanted to go on more than anything. I worked my butt off to raise the funds, and even started learning Spanish (which I hated). Everything in my mind said to go. But, when it came down to it, my family decided I couldn’t. I was devastated. But, you know what? From that experience, I learned how to work toward something that I passionately cared about. I learned to apply myself, and that work ethic has carried over as I continue to dream of traveling.

Sometimes, life is unexpected.

When I look back and see all the things I’ve been able to do, the memories are so much sweeter because of the failures I’ve had in contrast. It’s a lesson that’s unpopular to learn, but failure is not inherently bad. It means that you aspired to something greater than what you had. You dared to dream bigger than yourself, and think outside the box. And, from where I’m standing, that is nothing to be ashamed of but, rather, commended.

So, risk big! Dare to dream and don’t be discouraged if you fall flat on your face. No one is born inherently successful, it takes time, energy and commitment to what you love.

To borrow some favorite lyrics from a hometown boy:

The greats weren’t great because at birth they could paint, the greats were great because they paint a lot. -Macklemore