August 29, 2014
May we not become wampus.
I had an epiphany, and I think it was holy.
The image of the three wiseman come to mind as I lay in bed, of carrying gold, frankinscence, and myhrr out on a journey traveling far to give their best to the Babe in the manger.
I think of Ethiopia.
Whether we are carrying a small suitcase or shipping a container...
May we not become wampus, and forget. An Ethiopian brother had to remind me. While it is hard some days for me and my American mind - in the land of the plenty - to wrap around the why we wouldn't...
It really is not about the material now, just as it was not about the material then.
We in our wisdom become wise when we know it was always, always about the Babe. Therein lies our focus...
We deliver our goods in worship to Him, and it is not my job nor can I - in my own strength - just like Lucy in the Chronicles of Narnia movie make you see what I see now - that you can't see...or won't see...and get frustrated or angry about it...in our journey unto Journey. I ask for grace in that, and instead, I surrender that fight to Him and I let Him do it. It is His mission anyway.
I fly out in twelve days. Twelve!
May God richly bless our time these "lasts" of last days, and in the days to come.
Friday, August 29, 2014
Sunday, July 20, 2014
It matters.
Wrote this last night around midnight. Still need time with Jesus on it...
___________
Tonight is one of those late night moments I wish my Dad was still here to comb my hair before bed and we could talk late at night. Things I would ask him in his wisdom:
1. Why do we have people talk about how poor they are when they have every hair on their head and there are kids losing theirs and we go on as if that missionary picture didn't matter, as if sponsorships or doing something about it is an inconvenience?
2. Why are we so bible illiterate when we are literate? And there are people who die for carrying one who can't read it (never taught how in their own language) yet they treat it as pure gold?
3. How do I not get bored on Sunday mornings and keep the fire aflame when everything in me wants to puke in our safe, secure and taken for granted worship?
He would tell me to get him a pop as he repositioned himself on the couch (this is him going to his Leader), and he would pull me close. He would tell me not to let the sun go down on my anger when it comes to my frustrations.
This is how sideview mirrors come off cars when trash cans get in the way. Stupid trash cans.
But Dad isn't here.
Ten years later and I'm flying to Africa on a one way ticket - not yet fully funded but fully provided for - and why, why does it matter so much? The Gospel. And...
These kids are me.
I get it, and I get them as the loss of my Dad is a part of my story, so send me out.
And sometimes missionaries lose it.
Neither one of us would be sure to have all the answers.
But I trust Jesus. I know the One in whom I trust, and we will get the answers to the crazy and unbelievable and __________ on the other side. Rev. 21:4.
Sincerely, your unshakeable rebel missionary who does not want to be called "precious" right now but she is anyway. ;)
___________
Tonight is one of those late night moments I wish my Dad was still here to comb my hair before bed and we could talk late at night. Things I would ask him in his wisdom:
1. Why do we have people talk about how poor they are when they have every hair on their head and there are kids losing theirs and we go on as if that missionary picture didn't matter, as if sponsorships or doing something about it is an inconvenience?
2. Why are we so bible illiterate when we are literate? And there are people who die for carrying one who can't read it (never taught how in their own language) yet they treat it as pure gold?
3. How do I not get bored on Sunday mornings and keep the fire aflame when everything in me wants to puke in our safe, secure and taken for granted worship?
He would tell me to get him a pop as he repositioned himself on the couch (this is him going to his Leader), and he would pull me close. He would tell me not to let the sun go down on my anger when it comes to my frustrations.
This is how sideview mirrors come off cars when trash cans get in the way. Stupid trash cans.
But Dad isn't here.
Ten years later and I'm flying to Africa on a one way ticket - not yet fully funded but fully provided for - and why, why does it matter so much? The Gospel. And...
These kids are me.
I get it, and I get them as the loss of my Dad is a part of my story, so send me out.
And sometimes missionaries lose it.
Neither one of us would be sure to have all the answers.
But I trust Jesus. I know the One in whom I trust, and we will get the answers to the crazy and unbelievable and __________ on the other side. Rev. 21:4.
Sincerely, your unshakeable rebel missionary who does not want to be called "precious" right now but she is anyway. ;)
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Moments of Surrender
What does surrender look like?
It's like crash dummy testing. You hit brick wall after brick wall...until finally the dummy gets out of the car and says "I'm done."
I think we expect a new body in those moments...but the new body is what awaits us.
There are just less walls.
It's like crash dummy testing. You hit brick wall after brick wall...until finally the dummy gets out of the car and says "I'm done."
I think we expect a new body in those moments...but the new body is what awaits us.
There are just less walls.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Jesus, make me an Habesha.
Jesus, make me an Habesha.
Prayers I've been praying lately.
(Did that just happen?!!)
My feet long to be black with Ethiopian sand. I want to hold hungry lost-in-the-world children in my lap. I want to see HIV positive go negative in healing services like they talked about. I want to hear "ferenji, money, money" and say "ow, Yesus" and "teacher, grade 3" with taps and tugs on the arm. I ache in missing them.
I want to pour and spill out all that's in me and be desperate for more. I want bibles they can read to fly out of my hands into hearts into other hands and other hearts. I want to learn how to make soccer balls out of socks and find the socks to make them.
I want to drink straight from the coffee bean hand ground coffee and tea from cups that have never seen American soap and perhaps not the cleanest water and eat popcorn that may or may not be crawling with roaches because its what they have and it would offend not to. I want to go shopping, lots and lots of shopping. I want to feel like I'm doing something.
I want to hear the Muslim call to prayer and pray to my God, the God of Israel, as if I am the only one and perhaps feel threatened (heightened awareness) but stand firm and still standing. I want to miss you and you miss me. I want to miss your voice knowing I know it. I want to take you with me. I want to fight for Joy. I want to see that boy ride that donkey as if Christ Himself were coming for me.
I want my heart to break, to spill out as jello, to soften, to numb, to feel nothing which means steady, to come to that soul cry of broken before the God of Jacob, Holy Jehovah, who holds every heart and soul together, and my heart to hurt that bad for the lost. I want my Leader in it. I want to do something about it.
I want to come back a little less normal than I was before and have every right to be with the craziest of Alice in Wonderlands from big to small to nothing - from having a bed to a make shift bag. I want to be angry, righteous angry, call out greed for what it is, not get stuck judging and love again.
More than all I want to saturate His presence. I want His nations on their face before Him. The One who took first world, third world, and world world and deems it as holy.
Jesus, let your will be done and have your way in my life.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Just do it. :)
A prostitute who is HIV positive breastfeeds her baby diseased milk because she has nothing to give him because she lacks skills for normal work and feels she has no choice.
A man whose legs are missing scoots himself around on his bottom, his pants worn from sand and dust (we can imagine his skin is raw increasing chance for disease and infection), swinging himself on his arms to get around because there aren't many wheelchairs where he lives, and even if they were readily available and every road was paved, he couldn't afford to buy one.
Another man whose legs are deformed from disease (they appear to be broken it's so bad), and you wonder if this is a demon or not, is walking on black drums on his knees, legs mangled in the air, using his hands to crawl for travel near the market while you ride a bajaj. (Bajaj = cute little three wheel vehicle).
Goats heads fresh from slaughter align the sidewalk - a dog's delight - and dry bones from hyena, bull, and horse line the path where bare children's feet walk and play on a daily basis.
Children without fear or hesitation begging for love, attention, and a bite to eat, a toy or clothes will come up to you (thank God you are safe), and follow behind you saying "forenji, forenji, money, money, money" (forenji = foreigner but really translated means French) so much you have to chase them back saying "bacca" (bacca = enough).
Welcome to Africa.
This is Ethiopia.
The land of the orphan, some of the abused, and the forgotten.
And, I miss them.
I got the beautiful gift and privilege of traveling far from my native Kentucky home to show them God's love this American October 2013. (It is 2006 there). The virgin voyage to Ethiopia captured my heart in very little time and now my life trajectory is completely changing as Ethiopia, the Horn of Africa, is now my second home, and I'm going back (I already know it - I've told people I'm moving there lol) in His timing.
I can not live (and will not live) for my own needs here. That's the definition of selfishness and it's wrong. Jesus, give us a world vision and help us be fearless and reckless about it. Good grief.
For God's glory, I chose to humbly serve Him serving the least of these (Matthew 25).
I was told in order to truly change a nation, you have to live there for a while, and there is some truth to that but with this first month long trip, my eyes were fixed on spreading the undiluted Gospel to anyone who would receive Him (and if I let it happen I would have been scatterbrained in our ministry...which darkness do I apply your light to today, Jesus?): to every religious Orthodox believer in Mary, to every Muslim praying in the street, to the children in the classes I visited and/or helped teach, to the babies who gave me kisses and wanted me to scoop them up into my lap, to the shop keeper's daughter... My heart is His. There were days it absolutely broke for their brokenness and days when it swelled deep, long, and high busting at the seams.... I knew whatever the circumstance, whatever the situation even if it happened to be in what some feared could be threatening conditions these people needed Jesus. We all do. And they taught me things...still teach me things...
These people were a grateful people. They thanked God for provision of needs, whether it was vitamins to help boost immunity or a small toy for the kid who didn't have clothes much less toys, to food, to rent, to school books so they have a chance at education, to hearing Jesus came and died just for them...the greatest need. I said it there during devotions and I'll say it again because it is just true: The greatest poverty is living life without Jesus at the center of it.
Are we bankrupt?
I met so many families with so many needs and each home visit I went on was just one word: holy. And, even in times that seemed like such darkness, you could just see parts of the bible come alive in real life whether through someone riding a donkey, to seeing a woman at a well, or to crowds that just came to listen. Before I left every child at BCI Academy received the word "wanted" on a piece on paper, not wanted for corruption, but loved and wanted by Jesus, the One true God. Some of them ended in stares and others praised Him. I didn't ask for permission...I just did it.
I hope we are becoming "just do it" people. I know I want to be.
www.blessingthechildren.org
A man whose legs are missing scoots himself around on his bottom, his pants worn from sand and dust (we can imagine his skin is raw increasing chance for disease and infection), swinging himself on his arms to get around because there aren't many wheelchairs where he lives, and even if they were readily available and every road was paved, he couldn't afford to buy one.
Another man whose legs are deformed from disease (they appear to be broken it's so bad), and you wonder if this is a demon or not, is walking on black drums on his knees, legs mangled in the air, using his hands to crawl for travel near the market while you ride a bajaj. (Bajaj = cute little three wheel vehicle).
Goats heads fresh from slaughter align the sidewalk - a dog's delight - and dry bones from hyena, bull, and horse line the path where bare children's feet walk and play on a daily basis.
Children without fear or hesitation begging for love, attention, and a bite to eat, a toy or clothes will come up to you (thank God you are safe), and follow behind you saying "forenji, forenji, money, money, money" (forenji = foreigner but really translated means French) so much you have to chase them back saying "bacca" (bacca = enough).
Welcome to Africa.
This is Ethiopia.
The land of the orphan, some of the abused, and the forgotten.
And, I miss them.
I got the beautiful gift and privilege of traveling far from my native Kentucky home to show them God's love this American October 2013. (It is 2006 there). The virgin voyage to Ethiopia captured my heart in very little time and now my life trajectory is completely changing as Ethiopia, the Horn of Africa, is now my second home, and I'm going back (I already know it - I've told people I'm moving there lol) in His timing.
I can not live (and will not live) for my own needs here. That's the definition of selfishness and it's wrong. Jesus, give us a world vision and help us be fearless and reckless about it. Good grief.
For God's glory, I chose to humbly serve Him serving the least of these (Matthew 25).
I was told in order to truly change a nation, you have to live there for a while, and there is some truth to that but with this first month long trip, my eyes were fixed on spreading the undiluted Gospel to anyone who would receive Him (and if I let it happen I would have been scatterbrained in our ministry...which darkness do I apply your light to today, Jesus?): to every religious Orthodox believer in Mary, to every Muslim praying in the street, to the children in the classes I visited and/or helped teach, to the babies who gave me kisses and wanted me to scoop them up into my lap, to the shop keeper's daughter... My heart is His. There were days it absolutely broke for their brokenness and days when it swelled deep, long, and high busting at the seams.... I knew whatever the circumstance, whatever the situation even if it happened to be in what some feared could be threatening conditions these people needed Jesus. We all do. And they taught me things...still teach me things...
These people were a grateful people. They thanked God for provision of needs, whether it was vitamins to help boost immunity or a small toy for the kid who didn't have clothes much less toys, to food, to rent, to school books so they have a chance at education, to hearing Jesus came and died just for them...the greatest need. I said it there during devotions and I'll say it again because it is just true: The greatest poverty is living life without Jesus at the center of it.
Are we bankrupt?
I met so many families with so many needs and each home visit I went on was just one word: holy. And, even in times that seemed like such darkness, you could just see parts of the bible come alive in real life whether through someone riding a donkey, to seeing a woman at a well, or to crowds that just came to listen. Before I left every child at BCI Academy received the word "wanted" on a piece on paper, not wanted for corruption, but loved and wanted by Jesus, the One true God. Some of them ended in stares and others praised Him. I didn't ask for permission...I just did it.
I hope we are becoming "just do it" people. I know I want to be.
www.blessingthechildren.org
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
I dream of Africa
The wait is an enduring one. I don't understand the new longing and passion in me to desire more international service; must be from the Lord. Turns out I kind of like the holy aura around the water basin. Why Africa? Ethiopia is one of the poorest countries in all of Africa with one birr the equivalency of 10 cents and I called Keith Strawn's organization Blessing the Children Int. based in Kawkawlin, MI about a mission trip, gave him my card number over the phone for the $40 application fee without many questions asked. I was in dire need of something new and feeling caught in the in between until it happened where I will remain until October when I go.
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For the next fundraising opportunity please visit:
http://www.eventsnearhere.com/find-events/KY/Lexington/All/All/addetail/7990/Monkey-for-Missions/?start=16
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(Photo from www.blessingthechildren.org)
Since my trip to Haiti in Sept. '12 my views on our lifestyle in America have changed. We are blessed and most of us are unaware as to how much even on our good days. Ethiopia doesn't have as governmental infrastructure to help kids who need it; that responsibility is placed on the church. It's difficult for me to stay put when everything in me desires to go and make some dent of a difference in third world countries. Granted, everyone has problems and it's not my job to solve all of them when sometimes the rock bottom leads you straight to Jesus in utter dependence on Him...but my heart is to alleviate suffering any way I can whether it's an anti-hunger or pro-health campaign. I desire action and easily get frustrated when we choose sleep over perhaps saving lives when He calls us to be awake and alert at all times.
The cost to go to Ethiopia is $2,995 but I want to grace them with more than just my presence. I've raised one third so far meaning I've secured my spot on the team. I can't wait to see what God is going to do and is already at work doing there and the suspense kills me. My heart is for missions and will forever remain for missions until my last calling: Home. Until I get fully funded for my mission, I dream of Africa.
For the next fundraising opportunity please visit:
http://www.eventsnearhere.com/find-events/KY/Lexington/All/All/addetail/7990/Monkey-for-Missions/?start=16
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