I’m a Barbarian Christian. There’s no other way to put it. I gave up on civilized religion many years ago. It didn’t satisfy me. It left me feeling frustrated, unfulfilled, empty. The life I now live is uncivilized, uncultured and raw. I follow Jesus where ever He goes. Not because He tells me to, not because I’ll be "blessed" if I do, not because I must. But only because I want to.

I followed when He parked me in Hollywood. I followed Him to India. I followed Him to the Mediterranean. And I followed Him to Nashville. Yeah, God loves even Nashville. Kid Rock and all.

I don’t run around saying "Praise Jesus!" or "Glory!" But that’s just me. I’m more the "cool!" "Awesome!" "Jesus, You Rock!" kind of freak.

I’m not into Christian-eese. I hate it when people use those big churchy words, like propitiation. I mean, really. Who talks like that? My dad used to. But he was 80 when he died nearly two years ago. You expect 80 year-olds to talk like that. But not someone half his age. And certain not someone a quarter his age!

In a nutshell, I don’t fit in in a "regular" church. Singing songs, listening to a sermon and going home to Sunday dinner just isn’t me. I need to get my hands dirty, be down in the mud and muck with the rest of the world. That’s where real life happens. In the trenches, with people. And dang, people are just messy.

Life got really messy for me. It’s been ugly and painful for about three years now. And I’ve spent some pretty hefty time in deep contemplation of whether this whole Barbarian thing is worth it. It’s a rough, rugged, bare-fisted kinda life. And I ain’t no camper-girl. I’m more you standard hotel/urban-lovin’ city-girl.

I came to Nashville to plant a church like the one I have in Los Angeles. But now I’m struggling with whether to commit fully to this venture. Barbarian or not, there’s only so much pain I can endure. Planting a church is about as easy and painless as birthing a baby. Yeah.

Did I mention I hate pain?

Yes, I am a Barbarian — an urban-lover-pain-hater Barbarian. It’s not about the warrior part — Don’t think Conan. Yikes, I’ll never be that! Think — Amelia Earhart. Or Katharine Hepburn. Or Mary Tyler Moore. The ground-breaker. The Pioneer. Fierce, and unwilling to yield to her own fears or the nay-sayers around her. Its not about slashing and dashing, it’s about… the courage to give your life to something bigger than anything you ever imagined. Its about the humility to be transparent, to be real and authentic, even at the cost of your own heart. Its about caring so much about the people in your life that you give your life’s blood for their well-being. Its about living out the Bible, not just memorizing it or talking about it. And most of all, its about having a deep, intimate, passionate, crazy-making, relationship — with the Creator of the Universe.

My teammates saw in me something I couldn’t see myself. Last night they reminded me that I AM a Barbarian. They celebrated my un-civilzation and in doing so, they momentarily cleared the fog of confusion brought by my pain and brokenness. It takes time to heal. The deeper the wounds, the more time it takes. My wounds are pretty deep. But I’m still here. Someday I will be better. Last night, for a brief moment I saw myself clearly in the reflection of my teammates’ hearts — and I remembered Who I Am.

My name is Lu, and I am a Barbarian.