These are posts written while I was traveling on a speaking tour. I hope you find them interesting, encouraging, and possibly hilarious.
What a tour this has been! And today is its last official day…which is really sad actually. (Though it’s true, we can’t wait to get back to Wegman’s, our own beds, and Starry Night’s chai.) These are some things God taught us on tour, our summer plans, and closing reflections. Thank you all who stood with us on this tour — we can’t tell you how much it meant to have you praying for and encouraging us! Love you all!!
Love,
Tiffany & Jen
These are some of our funniest, fondest moments — our top ten, but in no particular order. The moments that make us want to cry because it’s coming to a close in just three days…
[Commence the waterworks.]
The city where Jen busted out “Let It Go” at the top of her lungs, every time we walked into a crowded area or a bus full of people. Before she’d even seen the movie.
The street in Minneapolis where we were running from a strange man, who was asking where “you RBGs came from,” then clarifying he meant “Ravishingly Beautiful Girls.”
The guest house with the door that wouldn’t lock, where at midnight I propped a chair under the handle to barricade the door, so if anyone broke in I would hear and know. The morning after when Jen found that chair and almost died laughing at my paranoia.
The hike on which I randomly decided I didn’t feel like carrying my trusty pink water bottle anymore, and promptly chucked it in the garbage can. WHY would I do that?!
The new friend who was cooking a placenta on her kitchen stove. Enough said.
The field where we slammed on our brakes to stop and see all the elk…and then accidentally stepped in all their poop.
The hotel where Jen bolted straight up in bed, screaming, “President Martin just Facebook messaged me!! This is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!”
That time we realized we were true nature snobs. Driving into Yosemite, we looked down our noses, saying city girl things like, “Oh look, some big logs, that’s cool.” “Oh look, mountains. That’s cool.” Then I comforted Jen, saying, “Don’t worry, we’ll see some malls too,” as we turned back to drinking our Starbucks and complaining that we were losing cell service.
The day walking through Denver’s downtown, outdoor mall, when a guy walked up to shake our hands, saying: “Do you know what this spot is?” Looking at the ground in awe, we couldn’t believe we were standing on a famous spot! He continued, “It’s the spot where we first met. What are your names?” Now THAT deserves a girl’s attention.
The night in Texas where a Christian school so kindly set us up with a hotel…not realizing it had been renovated into a night club.
Oh yeah, and I can’t forget…
The time I thought I could dance.
Here are some of our more touristy adventures along this cross-country tour!
…but I totally forgot to post pictures! So here you are. It’s really just one picture. To get close, you have to pay a fairly high rate for parking, and I was like, “No way I’m paying $11 for a photo!” Haha. But then later I found out that there’s actually a museum and some really cool stuff up by the parking area! (I’ll keep that in mind for the next time I go back.) But for now, here’s my free view picture:
The past few weeks have been full of wonderful moments and stories: Those moments when you feel as though heaven is touching earth. Stories that make it all seem worth it. But then, there was this moment of “failure.”
First, one of my recent favorite stories: After a school event, a girl came up and said she’d made some decisions based on the God who she couldn’t even feel. “But today,” she told me, “I felt Him.”
My heart wanted to sing, even as I shared with her that when we can’t feel Him, He’s still there.
Later that week, I was praying once again for that night’s seminar. I asked Him to be with me as I spoke, and I felt as if He was saying, “Of course I will.” I was nervous because I’d be sharing a brand new seminar…but I was also excited because God had been stretching me in that direction, and really coming through each time.
And then I got up to speak…
Okay, I’m exaggerating. Truth is, it wasn’t awful, but I felt like He wasn’t with me. I felt like it didn’t go well. I felt like a failure.
And I was so mad at God.
I’ve been talking with God about this for the past few days, because I couldn’t understand why He didn’t seem to care, why He let that happen. The only answer I kept getting was, “I love you.” (Sometimes God’s answers, at first glance, have nothing to do with our questions.)
Last night I brought it up again: “God, I thought you said you’d be with me!” And in that moment, I sensed Him saying:
My friend Greg said that sometimes we forget God is with us in darkness. He is our guide through the valley of the shadow of death, just as much as He is our guide on the mountaintop. In fact, even darkness is light to Him (Psalm 139). And darkness brings a desperation that draws my heart closer.
Maybe God wanted me to know that He’s far more concerned with my heart than with an awesome seminar. Maybe He wanted to teach me that my identity is only found in Him. Maybe He wanted to deal with some of my pride, as I saw how much I overreacted to that feeling of failure, wanting to prove myself.
I’m not sure what exactly He was doing inside me, but I saw once again that He’s far more interested in wooing my heart than in how “well” I feel an event goes.
I think He was showing me that even though I didn’t feel Him there, He was there. And on top of that, God still moved, touching hearts.
It’s amazing. He’s always with me, and He always loves me.
This beautiful post is by my traveling buddy Jen Moffit:
I had no idea what to expect when I embarked on this journey with Tiffany.
I didn’t even want to come, but God knew that I needed to. So I said yes, and I opened by heart and mind to whatever He would have for me.
Many people on this trip have shared with me that God put an image of a clock on their hearts for me.
I am not a patient person. I want what I want and I want it now! I don’t like online shopping because it takes too long to have it shipped! But you know what happens in waiting for that gorgeous J. Cre
w sweater to arrive on my doorstep: anticipation grows. I’m giving the mailman the third degree everyday about my package. And everyday he says, “Not yet Ms. Moffit.”
Until that lovely day when the sun is shining and the birds are singing and my package is here!
I tear the box open and the sweater is so soft and smells so good and I just wanna wear it everyday for the rest of eternity!
I don’t want to wait for the gift. But in that waiting God draws me close to Him. He teaches me about His character, and in knowing Him He heals me. He prepares me to fit into that sweater! And something I’ve learned recently – the process of waiting really isn’t about me at all. It’s about knowing Him.
Mother Teresa said the greatest humiliation is to know that you are nothing. Humility and grace in this life comes when we realize that this life is not about us.
We were in the top of the famous arch in St. Louis (who knew you could ride up there!), and I just kept marveling at how small everyone looked on the ground. Like tiny little ants just roaming around.
In that moment, all of my worries seemed so frivolous, so small in the scheme of the world.
Yet how kind of the Creator of this great big Earth to want to know us, and to care about our hearts. To long for us to share our burdens with Him, so he can take them and carry us into freedom.
His kindness towards His daughter is overwhelming. He took all my brokenness and inadequacy and anxiety and whispered of His nearness.
So I’m learning to not be afraid of the waiting. I delight in the times where knowing God is the only thing that fulfills; where I take my eyes off my circumstances and turn them to the God who gathers the sea into jars and holds my life in His hands.
When I look at the path in front of me, it looks just like this one: winding out of view in the distance. All I see is what’s in front of me right now, and for a control freak like me, that’s tough to accept. I hate “not knowing.”
But there’s peace in this place of unknowns, worries, and fear. There’s peace because even though I don’t know what lies ahead, I know the One who sees every day He’s written out for me, before I was ever born. From eternity, He sees me, He knows me, and He loves me.
Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them.– Psalm 139:16
I know, I know… horses are huge and can trample you, but for some reason I trust them more than any other animal.
Yesterday afternoon we took an hour venture to ride my friend’s horses. He’s a real life cowboy here in Rifle, Colorado, though his official title is game warden. (He’s married to one of my best friends from college.)
They’re true Rocky Mountain horses, bred and trained to ride hard and take people through steep, narrow, mountain passes. And let me tell you, the horse we rode (Tessa) was quite literally chomping at the bit! It did NOT like being paraded around like a pony ride when it was used to running wild through passes.
Ridin’ Tessa…venturing OUTSIDE THE FENCE!!! (I may have been just slightly nervous…)
I gave it a chance to trot while I was on it (felt like my tailbone was about to crack cause I don’t really know how to ride a horse, but would kind of like to learn), but all it wanted was a good long, hard run.
I don’t want to waste my time on the little things; I’d rather get right to the race, to the wind in my hair and the amazing things I want to accomplish. I don’t want to walk.
But I love that God doesn’t work that way. He’s so much higher than us. In fact, He says that those who WAIT on the Lord renew their strength. THEN, and perhaps only then, can we mount up on wings like eagles, walk and not grow weary, run and not faint.
Next time I’m chomping at the bit, I have to remember to wait on the Lord, trusting that soon enough, in His time, He’ll say “Go.”
And then we can run.
I woke up this morning: headache, restless, worried. Asking God to take care of me. Then I turned to Matthew 6 to remind myself not to worry. I love vs. 32:
“Only people who don’t know God are always worrying about such things (i.e. food, clothes, etc.). Your Father in heaven knows that you need all of these.”
I’ve always thought this verse meant, “People who never met Jesus worry about these things.” But really, I think it means:
Only people who don’t really know who God is, His character, who don’t know that He’s their Father, worry about these things. People like me. People who forget they’re not orphans who have to beg for a scrap, but they’re daughters of an EXTRAVAGANT Father and King who wants to give them far more than enough — so much that there are baskets and baskets leftover!!
I don’t know about you, but sometimes I live from an orphan or beggar mentality, feeling like I have to coerce God into wanting to provide for me, thinking I’ll be cast out of the family if I don’t measure up, cause I don’t really belong there anyway. But the truth is, we are sons and daughters of the King of Kings, and He loves us. He is not just a good Father, but an extravagant Father. My friend Marcy tells it this way: sometimes we just go for the crumbs in our faith, but He has a huge feast for us! (For more on becoming a child of God, click here.)
I feel so much more at rest now, because I remember that He loves me. He delights in me. Whatever our situation in life, we are not beggars who have to spend thousands of words begging a far-off God to provide for us. He already knows our needs, and He knows that life is more than just food, clothes, and bills.
Yesterday Jen and I explored Redwood National Forest, and specifically “Big Tree.” (Yes, that’s actually its name.)
WOW!! Those trees are MASSIVE!! It felt like stepping into Narnia or something, with the sparkling Pacific Ocean on one side, and then this silent, enchanted forest on the other side.
When we finally drove slightly away from the coast and straight into the forest, little patches of sunlight filtered through the branches, but otherwise it was dim, and perfectly silent. It felt like you were in a church sanctuary or cathedral, like you wanted to whisper as you stood in awe…
Tiffany Dawn 