I sat at the coffee shop, across the table from a beautiful fiery-souled woman who had just adopted a child from a troubled foreign land and was ready to find a cause to pour her soul into. “I feel God’s calling me to do something more – something big, and I’m meeting with people who are changing the world. Tell me about what you do – I know you travel all over and do things for orphans. We’re alike. We want to change the world.”

I looked at her and smiled. “I love your passion, and I hope you find the thing that you just can’t not do – your real purpose in this life. I have to be honest, though.

“I am not a world-changer.”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” she responded. “Have faith.”

“But I really can’t change this world.”

I remember when I thought I could, when all I thought it would take is a little brainpower and elbow grease to right all the wrongs. There was always an answer to everything.

Until there wasn’t.

Because for every fix, there was another break. And another. And another.

And in my heart things became far less about finding solutions and far more about making things known and telling the stories of both those who are less-than and those who are doing the real work to care for them. I decided to fight for people rather than fight for a cause.

And I learned to pray. Because battles are raging. People are dying. Souls are darkened with the bleeding ink of the enemy’s words scrawled on their foreheads: condemned and shameful. And every damned layer of despair removed reveals more despair, and things grow less hopeful. And yet, there it is. Hope. Right there in the midst of the most painful pain – of the pain that’s not about class or color or creed but really about us hating who we are at our very core and us not believing what Abba Father says about who we are truly created to be. Warriors are being call deeper into the battle. Lives are on the line. We’ve only one solid Hope – all else is risk. And this is a risk worth taking.

I am holding onto – and holding out – that Hope. And I am growing braver in the battle.

I am not a world-changer. But I can stand. And I can fight.

And I want you there with me.

Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are anger and courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are. ~Augustine

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Shoot like a Girl began as part of the #31days project. You can learn more about the “why” of my story and see all my daily posts here. I’d love to stay in touch with you – be sure to subscribe to my blog and visit my writer’s page to get updates on stories and special projects, including a collaborative that will publish this spring and a book about women who are fighting for change and beauty. Thank you for your encouragement!