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Fair warning…this is a four part post unveiling the mess of my ever evolving heart. My ongoing story of being broken to be made whole– from glory to glory. I blame no one for my mess, not even myself because God is the author of my everything.

It’s been a while since I have sat down to write. Right before the turn of the year I sat down to receive my assignments from the Lord. You might call them New Year’s resolutions, but I’m not a fan of that statement. It’s too easy to bail out of a self-focused resolve. But an assignment from God, well those things just don’t die.

One of my assignments was to make personal daily writing a part of my routine. Writing for my sake and His, not necessarily for ministry sake. Just like a Revelation Fitness® workout, you sacrifice the time because it’s your get-to, your motive is to hear from God, and you always feel more clear on the other side of your spent time. So it is with writing, for me. But since the New Year, life came hard and fast. It’s been a tornado of bitter-sweet. So to anyone who feels like your assignments from God are laying somewhere in the dust of yesterday, I invite you to push through and pick JUST ONE of them up today. His assignments are a delight; like fresh bread made daily, just for you to eat.

As I last wrote, I have been in my season of greater. I thought it meant more joy when in fact it has involved low-sodium levels from the number of tears I have shed. Since December 25th, my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer, I had one of the biggest board meetings of my life (and board meetings can feel like you are receiving a love lobotomy, surrounded by people who want only the best for the mission and community, so they push into hard places), I have been writing and creating content for our new Launch Leadership program, and we hosted a summit where we flew in our core team, from all over the United States, to sit down together, lock ourselves in a room for 48 hours and get clear on our ministry assignments for 2016. All of this in the midst of caring for my own little family, and now my parents who were grateful for any emotional and physical help I could give.

Then, on the Monday, February 22nd, two days before my entire staff was to arrive in Phoenix, the BIG “are you kidding me, God?” moment came. While teaching my usual Monday morning faith based fitness, Revelation Fitness® class, it happened. Every active person’s nightmare…one split second in time, a body part gets wrongly placed, bears weight, and “Snap!”. As I was exemplifying a simple two-footed lateral jump, a jump I have done a hundred thousand times before, my number was up. Upon landing it felt as if my left foot muscles had stretched out fast and wide—like a geisha girl flinging her fan open for dramatic effect, quickly followed by the feeling of hot coals burning beneath my foot. I knew something was seriously wrong as I instantly could not stand upright.

This is the part where you watch your normal daily life pack its bags and head for the front door, as a busload of worry and fear arrives unwelcomed at your backdoor. Unexpected and uninvited, they come.

(Two hours into my newest season of greater.)

I was diagnosed with a Lisfranc foot injury; an injury where one particular long tendon under the foot tears and causes instability in the first and second metatarsal. Surgery was needed to put two metal pins and a plate in my foot to stabilize the metatarsals while the tendon properly heals. Yah…surgery. One silly little placement of my foot and eight days later an I.V. of anesthesia invaded my vein. So, for the second time, in 9 months, I was going under. I had hoped that nine months ago when I had my breast implants removed would be my very last time under a knife. But God…

I awoke from my drug induced fog with a foot that had been purposely wrapped to look like an elephant’s foot. It was huge! It was cumbersome. And it was painful! Turns out, having metal screwed into your bones, hurts like mad. My recovery process began on my couch with lots of warm tears. I cried out to Jesus in new guttural ways. Every time He was faithful to come.

(My elephant foot.)

And then suddenly, around seven days post-op, the Good Physician decided it was time for the real operation to begin.

PART 2: “When God Breaks A Foot To Heal A Heart”

PART 3: “When Hard Is Actually Soft”

PART 4: “The Best Uninvited House Guest”