This October marks nine years from the date I was curled up in a ball, red-eyed and booger nosed at a Christian retreat center. I was 16 years old and I had just given my life to Jesus. God was performing some serious heart surgery on me and my life was radically changed.

Fast forward three years to the age of 19, and I could be found sitting on the third floor of my campus library. This was the “silent level,” and since I love quietness,  I deemed it the perfect place to set up camp for the semester. Was I studying? Yes and no. I was definitely not studying textbooks, but as an interior design major, one could say I was studying an interior environment.  That’s exactly what I was doing, studying the four walls of the library; Everyday for two, three, sometimes four hours. To be honest, I really wasn’t there for the academic benefits because our library was poorly designed in every state of the phrase, and I only learned how not to design a library.

I was there because I wanted to seek the face of Jesus.

If you’re in Christian circles long enough you will surely hear phrases like “Jesus told me” or “I think God wants me to do this”. Though I was a culprit of using those terms, I was not satisfied at the level to which I could hear Him. I knew there had to be more, and that’s how I ended up on the third floor of the library.

I had no one to disciple me, no one to help me process, no one to answer my many questions.

The Holy Spirit was my teacher. (and still is)

It was on the third floor of the library that I began the exciting journey of learning to hear the sweet voice of Jesus beyond those small inclinations in my spirit. It was there that a blueprint for my life began unfolding before me by the master architect of this world, God himself.

“I’m calling you to write…” said Jesus
“What? Me? Are you kidding me?” I thought to myself.

Hearing those words was really shocking, but it was so unlike anything I had ever heard that I knew it was God. I never imagined that those words would ever be spoken to me, but I never doubted it since the day I heard it.

That is where this story begins, and the foundation for this blog has originated.

I have carefully documented what I like to call “the process,” as in, the process of the radical and (un)common Christian life; walking through mountain tops, valleys, seasons, and wrestlings with God all the while trying to live radically, praying and seeing miracles, and circling around the globe as He leads.

It is so easy to look at the lives of Christian faith heroes, or to attend a conference to get fired up and “receive the anointing,” but it’s hard to live radically/victoriously like they do when you don’t know how to get there.

What does it really look like for a normal person like you and I to live the way Jesus did when we do not have a pulpit, no following, or no special talents? What does it feel like to step out in faith and pray for miracles? What’s the protocol on deliverance and prophecy, or is there one? Do you ever wonder if you’re doing something wrong, or questioning if what you’re hearing is actually from God? How do you even hear from God anyway?

I am no expert on any of these questions, but I sure do have quite a bit of experience (especially on the being wrong part. Alas, it’s all a process). I’m all about the process of growth, and I have many real and authentic scribbled up, tear stained journals filled with hand written letters to God and His responses; A collection of my own processed handiwork on “getting there.”

Enjoy the beauty of my mistakes and victories. May they bring clarity and encouragement to your own walk with Jesus.