Feeling Small

I have found that there is nothing like a new experience to make a person feel extremely small.

College. That's what I'm talking about here.

I just got back from my first day of classes, and have barricaded myself in the dorm - trying to ward of the terrifying future of giving an oral report in Spanish. There are 600 faces I don't recognize, 15 miles of nothing between me and the nearest Sonic, and all I have to battle it is a box of fruit cups and some hot tea.

Well, that and Jesus. 

I know that my God is bigger than the fear inside of me (John 16:33). I know that my God gives courage to those who are trembling (Isaiah 41:10). I know He leads me every day in the direction he wants me to go (Exodus 15:13).

And if I just keep reminding myself of these truths, I can breathe again. 

He has overcome what is in front of me, He is here to strengthen me and give me peace, and He will continue to lead me even when I'm scared silly of my surroundings.

He's doing the same for you.

Pretty Pennies

There she was, high up above me on the jungle gym. Her curly blond hair swept back in a careless pony-tale, and her eight-year-old smile completely wiped away and replaced with a much-to-old-for-her-frown.

"What's wrong, Honey?" I asked.

She shrugged.

Undaunted, I persisted, "Wanna talk about it?"

After a moment, she nodded and she scrambled down the bars. We found ourselves on the swing set. I gave her a few good pushes, and then took a seat on the next swing. For what seemed like an eternity, we didn't speak - just pumped our legs up and down, and let the wind carry us. I silently prayed that the wind would carry away her worries as well.

If only it were that simple.

As our swings slowed to a stop she looked at me and sighed, "I just really hope my dad wants to see me today." Her words were barely a whisper.

My heart hurt. I knew a little of her past. Absentee father, single mom, insecurity - the unfortunate story of so many little girls in this world. How could I comfort her? I didn't  know where to begin, or what she needed to hear...or if it was even my place to speak about such a delicate subject.

But God is the provider of opportunities.

And this one came in the form of a shiny little penny, half hidden in the dust under my little companion's feet. As she stooped to pick it up I absently asked if it was heads up. It was. Before I knew what I was saying, the words from an old superstition were coming out of my lips - oddly enough, it wasn't my voice I heard; it was the voice of someone who knew what she was saying.

"Find a penny, facing up, and all the day you'll have good luck."

"Maybe," she looked up at me with a glimmer of hope in her eye. "maybe this penny will give me enough luck to see my dad today." And then, as if she realized how vulnerable she had just made herself, she flippantly looked to the sky. "Please God, make this penny be a lucky one!" She said dramatically.

That little glimmer of hope dimmed. It faded. And then it was gone.

She threw the penny on the ground and began swinging again. But I picked it up out of the dust, and stopped her swing. Looking her in the eye, I put the penny back into the palm of her hand, and I closed her small fingers firmly around it.

"Never, ever, loose that hope. Dad's don't always do the right thing. They don't always show us how much they love us. They don't make it to every dance recital, or every Daddy Daughter day at school. But all those things are part of life. What matters most, is that you hang on to hope. Hope in the world, is the thing that keeps it moving. And even if everyone else leaves you feeling lonely, know that I love you." And so does the real Father of our little lives, Dear. I added that part silently.

Her daddy did pick her up that day. And when he spun her around as they left the school, she caught my eye. She smiled and winked. "Lucky me" she mouthed. I smiled.

Friends, how many other little girls are out in our world - in our country - in our schools, and churches - that don't know the love of a father? That have been hurt or abandoned? Abused or mistreated? How many of these little girls have grown up into women, trying to mask their pain by efficiency, or a well put together family?

And what are we doing to show them the love of Christ?

It could be as simple as swinging with someone. As impacting as praying openly for them. But going to the one Father of our own little lives, and asking him to show us the opportunities around us, will make all the difference.

So, what are you going to be now?

I graduate tomorrow.

Wait...wait, did you catch that?

TOMORROW!

It still hasn't hit me, the reality of it. My head still says that I'll be returning to another year of high school in the fall...but I won't be. By August I'll be packed up and moving states away to a small Christian College in Mississippi. I won't be in my home, with my family; I won't be near the friends I've made.

Everything will be new; everything will be exciting - everything that is going to happen is just what I always dreamed would. I'm doing what I always knew I would. Haha, and there it is! If I had a dollar for every time someone has asked me 'What are you going to do now?' I'd have all of my college tuition paid off for the next two years.

As we ran through our rehearsal today, my administrator sat our class down and told us that he wanted to give us some words. We sat, though not as still and silent as we most likely should have, as he imparted the following story:

"My mother, as you all know, has been walking home to Jesus for a long time now. Over the last few days she has been walking a little faster there than before...Yesterday I sat with her as she - frankly - lay dying. As the day went on, something amazed me; she is my  mother and I love her, but I've never seen her through another person's eyes. People began flowing in and out of my mother's room. Some were nurses on break, others old students just off work, one was a young woman who said to me how she had always felt adopted by my mother as a granddaughter. Each told me one thing: How sweet, loving, and thoughtful my mother was. They told me of her strong character, of her kindness, of her patience and so forth. They told me of her as a person...

Not one of them told me about my mother's life. Not one told me what she did. Not one mentioned her accomplishes, or her failures, or of how she had impacted them. They did not speak of what she did - but of who she was. And that is what I want to leave with you.

People have been asking you, 'What will you do now?'...but I don't want you to think about that. I want you to think about this: What will you be? Because the impression of who you are will last forever, even after what you did has been forgotten."

Mr. O' went on with a few more words...and we all sat silently. I am not sure what was running through the minds of my classmates, but I sat with tears in my eyes at the challenge. I am guilty, you see - guilty of focusing on what I will be doing, instead of who I will be. That is changing as of now.

And no matter where you are in life - graduating, or just starting; on your own, or head over heals in love; twenty-five or fifty-two - stop worrying about what you are going to be. Search on your knees for who God wants you to be. To sum it up in Mr. O's words:

"When you be the person God has for you to be, you will do the things God has for you to do." 

-------------------------------------

P.S. Please be praying for Mr.O and his siblings, as well as all of those that his mother impacted. She is happy and Home with the King - but pain on earth is still a very real thing. Prayers for peace, comfort, and joy are more than appreciated.
 

Stone Hearts to Flesh [part five]

{Ezekiel 11:19 - I will take from them their hearts of stone, and give to them hearts of flesh.}

Love One Another.

Something so simply put should be easy, shouldn't it? But too often we fumble - I fumble - over loving others. I get annoyed with them, become selfish, get tired of them, don't understand their humor, am hurt by them...I hold grudges and have petty arguments. Typical female, right?

But you know what? When I start to view others as God would view them, loving them becomes the most incredible thing in the world. A thought on that : God loves others in the same way that He loves me. God sees others the same way He sees me.

Shocked much?

When that key was shown to me, I about fell off my rocker (figuratively speaking, because I wasn't on a rocker - and even if I had been, the arms on my rocker are so long that there is NO way one could actually fall off it.). It makes sense though, because how can you have a heart of tender flesh if there is not love for the world in it?

So what does love for others look like? I'm going to take you to a well known passage of scripture, but maybe with a new light on it.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  

Love never fails.
 

This is the kind of love Christ is talking about when he says "Love One Another" in John 13:34-35.

And it looks like a blanket.

No, seriously! Love is like a blanket. It takes the verb and actively wraps itself around someone; the patches that make up the blanket are each of these traits in the verses from 1 Corinthians. If your heart is lacking one of these traits in its love, then your blanket has a hole in it - and what good does a blanket with holes do on a cold day? Not much. Not much at all.

When you think of your love for another person, or a group of people, try to picture a blanket wrapped around them. Point out the areas where you're lacking in your love, and work at patching those holes! I have a collection of many 'blankets' in my life, some of them are spotless and neatly pressed - others are sadly ragged and dirty. It is something I've been working at fixing.

Love one another, actively, and completely.
 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So to recap:

A Heart of Stone                                                       
 *is standing still                                                        
 *is apathetic to the story of the Gospel                     
 *looks only at the person they were                         
 *withholds complete love from others                        

A Heart of Flesh
 *is growing in their Faith
 *finds joy in the story of the Gospel
 *is grateful for the person God has made them
 *wraps others in a warm blanket of love


Will you let God take your heart of stone, and give you a heart of flesh?

Stone Hearts to Flesh [part four]

{Ezekiel 11:19 - I will take from them their hearts of stone, and give to them hearts of flesh.}

 

Perhaps the hardest answer for me to grasp, was how to see myself as God sees me:

A guilty criminal - who has received full pardon.
A hopeless cause - whom he adopted into his family.
A mangled heart - that he took into his hands, and used to create a masterpiece.

Before you can understand how God sees you now, you have to understand how God saw you then.

Then, you were a guilty criminal.

You're in a dungeon cell. Captured by the weight of your sin. Satan is holding you as his own, a prisoner. You are guilty. There is no chance for you to stand clean in front of any jury.

Then, you were a hopeless cause.

No one was able to get you out of your prison. You were unable to break the habits of your sin. In fact, you did not want to get out - not really.

Then, you were a mangled heart.

Your sin, your bitterness, your pain had twisted the spirit given to you. It cast a deep shadow over any speck of light that might once have been there.

But God in his perfect love has looked past all of that. He sent Christ into the prison to pay the ransom, and take the punishment we deserved. When God looks at us - he sees Christ; not the mess we once were. He led us from the jail cell, into the very presence of Himself. He has called us his own. God has taken our broken, bleeding, crippled spirits and said "This, this is beauty. This is lovely. This is mine. Mine to love."

How do you see yourself? When you look in the mirror, who's reflection are you seeing?

The world will say you are ugly, plain, fat, too skinny, weird, unimportant...

But when you choose to see yourself as Christ sees you, as God views you, things change. The reflection becomes beautiful, unique, hopeful, strong...His.

Romans 9:22-26 says it all:

"What if God, although choosing to show his wrath and make his power known, bore with great patience the objects of his wrath - those headed for destruction? What if he did this to make the riches of his glory known to the objects of his mercy , whom he prepared in advance for his glory - even us whom he called, not only from the Jews but also the Gentiles? As he says in Hosea:
 

'I will call them 'My People' who are not my people; and I will call her 'My Love' who is not my love.'

and,

'In the very place where I told them 'You are not my people'; I will now call them 'My People'. "

Let it sink in for just a bit.  We are the objects of God's mercy. We were headed for destruction, and yet he cared for us with patience, and showed us his glory. He calls us His People. He calls you His Love.

We are no longer Prisoners of Sin - we are Objects of Mercy and Love.

 

 

 

 

 

Stone Hearts to Flesh [part three]

{Ezekiel 11:19 - I will take from them their hearts of stone, and give them hearts of flesh.}

In the last post, I wrote to you that Salvation is not the end, and that growth is rewarding (even though it is sometimes painful). This post is concerned with how to begin growing - how to take that step forward in our walks with Christ, and take in all of the character He has in store for us.

Do you remember the day you first realized what Christ did for you? The moment when you fell in love with Him, and asked Him to take over your life?

One hot summer's day (June 28, 2006) there was a young girl at a Christian summer camp. She was surrounded by the friends she had made throughout the week, everyone was laughing and talking, but she knew something was missing. From early in the week she had felt a knot in the pit of her stomach every time someone brought up Jesus. It wasn't that she didn't know what they were talking about, she knew the answers to every question they had asked her and felt confident in her knowledge of the Bible. The problem was all this talk about Jesus being the Lord of your life. The ONE person you follow forever. The ONLY master you serve.

She wasn't sure she had put Jesus in that place in her life. But she wanted that to change.

I was the little girl, 11 years old, who accepted Christ that night. And I can remember being so thrilled about the decision, that I went to all of the friends I had made to be sure that they knew just how important it was to make Christ your King.

Christ was my First Love. And during my time in the complacent church, I saw that I had turned away from the Love I had received in Him - the only love worth having. I had begun to worry more about my own material condition - about how I looked, acted, who liked me, whom I liked - than the condition of the Kingdom. More than the sacrifice Christ was. More than His power. More than His Love.

The root of the problem? I had become more interested in what Christ could DO for me, than what Christ already DID for me. I let the blessings overpower the source. Let's check out 1 Corinthians.

1 Corinthians 15: 3-4

"For what I [Paul] recieved I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, [and] that he was raised on the third day according to Scripture"

FIRST IMPORTANCE. The news that Paul is 'passing on' is to be regarded as the most important information above all others. What news?

Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures.

Christ was buried - He was not coming back.

Christ did come back - He rose after three days according to the Scriptures.

Why then, if this is to be of first importance, do we focus so little on the Gospel of Christ? Why are we so intent to share the blessings of Christ - but not intent to appreciate the sanctification of Christ?

I think part of the reason is because we no longer see the Gospel as active in our lives. We have stopped looking for the action, stopped thanking God for His gift. In the words of my friend Marc:

"...Don't tell me about what I need to do. Tell me about what Jesus did! It is the gospel that creates lasting change in our hearts! not a list of do's and dont's."
 

Faith is not about living right. Christianity is not about blessings. Being with God is not about looking pretty and carrying a cross around your neck.

Love. Gratefulness. Amazement at what God has done - He came to the filth that surrounds us, and died.

Remember that First Love. Remember that Joy. Remember His Sacrifice. Only by holding onto the message of the Gospel, will we ever be able to move forward.

Stone Hearts to Flesh [part two]

 {EZEKIEL 11:19 - I will take from them their hearts of stone, and give to them hearts of flesh.}

My time with the complacent church has always stuck with me. Over the years I have remembered the dull and disinterested eyes that drove me to seek out answers about passion for God, and His plan for the life of a believer. One of the first things He showed me was this:

Believers have the habit of crossing over the line of Salvation, and standing still on the other side - even though there is a road of growth and adventure stretching endlessly on before them.

This endless road of growth does begin with salvation, but does not end there by any means. Check out Philippians 1:6 with me:

"...being confident in this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it to completion in the day of Christ Jesus."

Salvation is not the end of the ride! It is merely a mile marker on a long stretch of highway. Since that is the case, what is the next step?
Renovation.

John 15:2 says,

"He cuts away every branch in Me [Jesus] that does not bear fruit; and every branch that does bear fruit He prunes, so that it will bear even more."

This whole process of turning a stone heart into a heart of flesh? It's not easy. Pruning? Yeah, it hurts. When you accept Christ, and then take the step forward on the highway, God will repeatedly take away any imperfection in your life. One by one he will begin to yank away the weeds, cut out the rot, and trim the edges of your imperfect heart. And it will hurt you. It has hurt me.

But it is so worth it! Even if it takes the pain of disappointment, and the sting of letting things go in order for a heart to grow continuously closer to Christ, I am in.

Ask yourself : Am I going to walk forward? Am I going to allow God to cut away the old me, to burn out the weeds in my heart, to mold me to be more like Him?

...Or am I going to stand still on the other side of Salvation, ignoring the growth and joy I could have if I just kept walking forward?

Stone Hearts to Flesh [part one]

    A while back I had a dream. It was one that left me shaken, and hurt - and for several months I carried it around without knowing what to do with it. I knew God was trying to share a message, trying to tell me something about life that I couldn't see for myself. But not until recently did I really understand just what it was.

    In my dream it had been just another Sunday. Nothing out of the ordinary. I sat alone on a pew near the back of a church, singing along with the rest of the congregation to a familiar worship song. Our voices blended well, and nothing seemed unusual. Men wore their best button-ups, women kept their attire modest and children in line. Typical southern Sunday scene. But just as the last line of "Bringing in the Sheaves" faded away and "Amazing Grace" began, I noticed that there was something strange in the room. Or rather, something strange was missing from the room.

    I looked around, still singing, at the faces in the congregation - what I saw shocked me. The people around me seemed sad. No, not sad. Disconnected! As if their minds were running on autopilot and their hearts were sleeping in. Their mouths moved, and their vocal chords were in working order - but their eyes registered blank. They may as well have been singing "...Drove my chevey to the levey..." instead of "...That saved a wretch like me...". Looking up to the choir, I saw the same disinterested expressions looking back at me. What had happened to the passion that had once filled the little church? Why was no one happy to be in God's house, singing to Him, and thanking Him for his mercy?

   As I walked slowly behind the others out the front door, I glanced in a mirror and saw myself. What I saw made me stop in my tracks. The same expressions of apathy and distraction that I had seen in the faces around me were there, etched into my face, and staring back at me with dull and lifeless eyes. I jolted - and that was when I realized, it was no dream.

   It was really Sunday. I was really in my church. My eyes really  held no life, no love, and neither did the eyes around me.

   That vision of the church has stuck with me over the years. Many times I have asked God how people could walk in such a continuall shade of grey after seeing the bright Glory of Him. How they could live and breathe every day by His grace, and yet take no pleasure in praising Him for it. The answer was not an easy one, but He has been showing me slowly - and through many trying experiences - how it happens.

   I've seen, on more than one occassion, how the Church falls into an in-and-out routine and walks away from their First Love. They forget their origional joy, and accept a quiet acknowledgment of God in its place. Over the next few weeks, I'm going to be blogging about the things He has shown me as they relate to my experience with the apethetic Church. It was not an easy lesson to learn, and one that you can take note of from my experience instead of going through the frustration yourself. If you've read my blog in the past, you know that this is not my usual method of writing - it's all new to me. But I feel that this is a message I can't simply keep to myself, so check back in the coming weeks to see just how a heart of flesh can turn to stone - and how God wants to bring it back to flesh.



  

Elephant Eating Etiquette

No Senior is safe on New Year's Eve. Life is just waiting around the corner in 2013 and that's the night to jump right out and snag it by the coat tails. Right? Right. Hold onto your new found freedom with both hands and fly into 2013 hot on its heels. That is what every Senior should do. That's what every Senior did, I'm sure.

Every Senior...but me.

My New Year's Eve was spent asleep on my parents' bed, recovering from my wisdom teeth being cut out of their happy little homes in my mouth. Something about the pain medication and inability to effectively communicate gives a girl some time to think, though, and thinking is one of my favorite things to do. So while everyone around me danced their way out of 2012, I delved into the deep places of my life and dreams to usher in 2013.

Resolutions. New Year's Resolutions was a topic often on my mind during my time of thought. I remembered my previous Resolution Lists - those ongoing promises to myself that I would change every flaw into perfection. I remembered how most of those promises never were fulfilled and how I ended every year still flawed in all of the same places. What was wrong? Surely my goals were not too high. Yes I lacked motivation, but how could I change that?

It came to me during my time laying around doing nothing. My goals were not too high, nor were my expectations impossible achieve. My self-discipline, though lacking, was not to be blamed for my failed Resolutions either. It was my plan of attack. Setting goals for self-improvement is a wonderful thing.

But how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

I have set three fundamental goals for myself this year. Goals that I believe will carry me well through life. But I cannot, and will not, be attacking them all at once as I have tried before - it obviously does not work. No, this year I'm taking it all one bite at a time.

I cannot change overnight. Neither can you. Just because you wrote something down on a piece of paper saying "I will not drink coke" or "I will exercise" doesn't mean you will be able to pick that up in the flick of a wrist. Take every goal one step at a time. Start small, and then grow. Break things down and do them in bite sized parts. Don't become discouraged. You can do it; your New Year's Resolutions can become Old Year's Successes.

Just remember the Elephant Eating Etiquette : one bite at a time.

YOLO - SLR

   
You Only Live Once.

      "Kayla..." I whispered into the darkness, hoping she was still awake and would listen to the amazing thing I had to share. "Psst...Kayla!"

     "What?"
    "Oh good, you're still awake." I was fairly bursting with excitement. 11:00pm or not, I had to get this out or I would surely explode! "Can I tell you something?"

    "Yeah, sure. What is it?"

    "I am, right now, this very second - I'm fulfilling a lifetime dream!" Now, I'm possitive that my excitement was conveyed in my voice...but Kayla must have been half asleep and missed it. Her whisper was laced with astonished confusion.
    "Sleeping in a hut in the middle of the jungle?"

     "Yep!"
     "How old were you when you knew you wanted to do that specific thing?"

     "Six!"

    Not many people my age can say that they have traveled out of the country. Even fewer can say that they've traveled out of the country five times. And still fewer can say that they've been to the jungle, lived in a hut, and swam in a Panamanian waterfall.

    But that night in San Antonio Gamboa, Panama a ten year dream came true for me. I was curled up in a pink mosquito net with five other girls, sleeping on a slatted hodge-podge of branches that served as the floor to a hut. Not just anyone's hut either! We were staying in the hut where the leader of this village lived; the leader and pastor!

    I am an adventure addict. You can imagine what all this did for my brain!

    Earlier that night we had come to the Wounaan (wo-NAHN) village in time for church. A mixed group of students from the United States and Wounaan Indians came together at dusk to worship the One True God together. We spoke different languages, we came from different places, we had different skin tones, different backgrounds...but we all knew what was important in life. We knew that we only lived once, and that we needed to live right.

    Voices raised in joyous praise, people (myself included!) danced because of their happiness, hearts were full, smiles were broad. I cannot even express how the Spirit settled in that place, but it was in that place that I saw Christ's sacrifice come to life. These people lived an hour and a half outside of the nearest city, they didn't have a doctor near enough to get a hold of in an emergency, their homes were lifted above the ground five feet because of the rain, and they had one bathroom situated at the top of a hill for the entire village - yet they were more openly infatuated with their Lover than any Believers I have ever met. In their intoxicating company it was only natural to forget my "southern baptist" ways and dance for God. And I believe it was the best worship "experience" my heart has ever had: to forget boundaries and rules and simply love my Jesus.

    These people not only worship like it is their last time, they witness like it is their last breath. They have found a need, a desire, in their hearts to share their Lover with those in the surrounding villages. In spite of what it might cost them, laughing in the face of danger, the people of Panama long to spread the name of Christ to everyone around them. Even the smallest among them.

    Pastor Lucciano stands no taller than my eye. I am short, he is certainly small. Yet his small form was often seen some yards in front of my team, walking with the urgency of two Apostle Pauls stuffed into one body. His passion for Christ, and for seeing the people of his country come to the Cross is beyond me! His selflessness is something that has been gifted him from God, it certainly is not of this world.

     Several weeks ago, Pastor was in the hills of Panama when he noticed a ruckus. A group of men were kidnapping a young girl, God knows what their intentions were. Running to her side, Pastor looked into the eyes of the hulking man and said "You can take her, but you have to get through me to do it." That was all it took, the distraction worked and the girl ran to safety, but Pastor did not come out unscathed. He was stabbed seven times over his body during his Spirit led rescue mission. he wounds haven't healed correctly, and a few weeks ago flies got in them. They laid eggs. Pastor Lucciano is a very sick man, infact, he may be battling cancer.

    His body may be wasting away, but never have I seen a man with so many odds against him fight so passionately for the souls of his countrymen. On days that my team and I wanted nothing more than to simply climb back in bed, sit on a rock, fall on the ground and just lay there for Pete's sake - he walked on, making sure we wasted no time in getting to the next ministry. If it were climbing a mountain, or praying for a sick friend, he rose to the task and gave glory to God.


    Pastor Lucciano knows that we only live once, that we need to live right. He is choosing every day to live selflessly and follow the call. He picks up his cross daily, his cross is much bigger than mine.

    The Wounaan tribe knows that we only live once, that we need to live right. They live in light of the joy of Christ. They live in constant praise, infatuation, and awe of their Lover.

    I know that I will only live once, that I need to live right. I have not allowed the fear of what could happen, the uncertainty of the future, or the pain of the past keep me from following God into new places (mentally, and physically).

     You Only Live Once - So Live Right.

                   John 9:4 "...we must work, for the night is coming when no man shall..."

To See The Rough Man Cry

     While walking down the street, you see seven men. They aren't businessmen, they aren't students. Quite frankly, they are thugs. Under Armor, Du-rags, tattoos, piercings, ripped, and posed like statues as if to say "This is my street, keep walking."
 
     Your first thought? "Oh! I want to tell them about Jesus!"

      NO. Your first thought is, "Don't make eye contact, keep walking." However, when I saw those men - seated together in an open lobby trying to stay in a dry place before the Panamanian downpour hit- I wanted nothing more than to ask them to follow us and come see the drama that would change their lives. But our line was moving fast, and before I could blink, we were at the end of the street and the men were behind me.

     "What's the point, God, of doing the drama, if we don't invite EVERYONE that we pass to come see it? How can we call ourselves missionaries if we don't take the time to catch every one? God, please send someone to those men...they need you as much as anyone else." I tried to take my mind off of it after praying, and decided to leave it all in his hands.

     The end of the street came, and so did that down poor I mentioned. Two seconds and we went from a drizzle to a flash flood! Three seconds and we went from a nice walk down the street to a mad scramble for shelter - half our team back tracked, half ran into the church across the street. I was part of the group that back tracked, my breath caught as I saw where we were running to: the very lobby that I had seen those thugs in! I looked over at Kayla, and she looked at me. We both smiled as we thought the same thing:

     This place is just the right size for a drama!

     Everyone else must have felt the same thing; as we entered in Sterling began to share his testimony with the men with David as translator, Marc and Ray ran back up the street and into the church to grab the rest of the team, and the rest of us began praying as we watched God's glory unfold in the eyes of seven rough men. Just in time, the rest of the team showed up, and in the seconds to follow we set the stage the fastest of any team I had ever been on.

     We had only one concern. If the rain let up, we knew the men would be gone. Sterling acted on this, and passed out tracks to each of them just before we began, and as he was off stage he began praying, "God, make it rain harder so they can't leave. Make their hearts long to stay. Don't let them leave. Show yourself to them, God!"

     The Gentle Ruler blew life into the People of the Land, and accross the sky of Panama there was a flash of lightning and a bone rattling crack of thunder...we thought it had been pouring before? Well, it was dumping now. Those men were stuck here whether they wanted to be or not.
 
     I had a thought of seeing each of them, in all their built toughness,  jumping in quick fright as the dragon came out. I was determined to see that thought come true, and as my group slowly slinked out I positioned my self in a place that I would be sure to end up in the face of the big black man in front. One...Two...Three...AAAHH! I had never seen a man this rough looking, jump in shock...but now I have. And I would see something even more amazing in the minutes to come.

    The drama ended and our men walked the two foot distance to speak with the crowd. I stayed back and watched...what I saw will always be with me. Tears spilled from the eyes of the man I had scared. He found it! He sees now! He KNOWS! Even then, his friend tried to get him to leave (the rain had let up after the drama and people were walking around again) but he looked at him and said "No, this guy is making a lot of sense, I need to hear it." The friend walked away in a huff, and our soft-turned-thug came in closer to pray for God's forgiveness and salvation.

     Our willingness to be HIS witness, their souls that were unconsciously seeking for HIS love, became HIS divine encounter. It is the same everywhere...when we are willing under any circumstance, to speak to a seeking soul, God will bring about a divine encounter. Obedience is the first step to any salvation. It was our obedience to his calling that gave us the opportunity to see the rough man cry, the blessing to call six of those seven men our brothers in Christ!

It Was In My Weakness.

     I've cried in my lifetime. More than most. But I had never cried like this - this was a heartache I had never experienced before. The feeling that I was failing, the pain of not being able to serve God to the fullness I wanted to. My dorm room at training served as an alter for all my hatred and bitterness of being an active student with  heart condition. Tears and sobs hit the floor, the wall, the bed, and always landed in the hand of God.
      In January I became very sick, and by March I was given a diagnosis of "Nuerocardiogenic Presyncope". It is a common condition in athletic youths, but everyone grows out of it...I was told however, that it has proved to be hereditary in my family and I'll have it for life. It keeps me from doing anything that could make my blood pressure drop...a lot of things make your blood pressure drop. Training made my blood pressure drop.
     Only day one and all ready I had blacked out three times and spent the majority of the day dizzy headed. And as I lay curled in a ball on my floor, I cried out to God to take it away. I wanted to do this. I wanted to serve him. I knew he could heal me. I knew it. Why wouldn't he take it away? Reaching onto the shelf, my hand grabbed the small leather book that has traveled everywhere with me for the last four years. Its worn binding, water stained pages, side notes, and underlined-highlighted-blocked-bracketed words showed its wear and tear...and my love for it. I knew that its words would hold the answer.
     Five minutes went by. My tears continued. Ten minutes went by. My heart still pounded in my ears. Fifteen minutes went by - all hell broke loose in that tiny, two-bed room. God had answered me loud and clear, and wrapped me in the biggest hug I've ever received.

2 Corinthians 12:7-10
"To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in my weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

     God promised that his power would be made perfect in my weakness. Promised. Well, I was certainly weak...Time for some power right? But in my heart I had no idea what on earth he could possibly do through a girl who couldn't remain conscious long enough to finish an eighteen minute drama. Little did I know that I would only have to wait one day to be shown!

      Day one of  ministry. We had arrived in Panama the night before, and immediately knocked out. When morning came we were greeted with the sounds of construction, and the wonderful smells of Tia (aunt) Mirna cooking downstairs. Even so, waking up was hard for me. My soul was ready and running for ministry, my body was screaming to stay under the covers. But the longing of my soul won over as God reminded me that He would use this weakness for His glory.
      Later in the morning we walked into our first ministry site. A school in the area had opened its doors to our team, and to the Gospel. I was thrilled! We would be performing for an elementary group of maybe 100 kids, all chomping at the bit to see what we had come to bring them. The whole team was electric with the desire to serve here - and then we saw the stage. Oy! It would be a difficult performance, of that we were sure! two feet off the ground, on a five by seven foot stage...teeny.
      But we knew that God is above any condition. The drama would go on! And not just once. Just as we finished ministering to these children we were asked to show it again for the high school, and in our group we have a heartbeat of obedience. Quickly we unloaded everything and set it all back up again. That heartbeat of obedience was a little different for me, however. It was obedient, but it was also fifty times harder than it should have been, and it was five times slower.

   "Kayla," I walked over to a team mate. "Can you take testimony, I don't think I should do it yet." She agreed and made sure I was going to be okay, I told her if I had a break I'd be good to go for the drama. God was at work even in this, as you'll see in a moment. Soon the room was full the bursting with almost 70 students, all of them in high school, and most of them wanting to be anywhere but there from the looks of it.
       The drama went through, my heart continued pounding. All through I was praying that God would keep me on my feet. He did, and I couldn't have been happier about it...I thought. After the drama, we went to the front of the students and said that if anyone had any questions about this Jesus, they could come ask one of us.
      Three minutes went by and no one had moved. Whitney Maie and I began praying that God would move his Spirit in even one to step forward for him. No sooner had we said amen than a girl stood. She looked my way and immediately I knew she was going to see the Father that day. Reaching out my hand I introduced myself, and she smiled as she took it. I noticed a pain in her eyes, one that I recognized. Quietly she asked, "I want to know...I would like to know...How, how did God change your life?"

      I began to share my story, with Whitney Maie at my side and our wonderful translator speaking my words. But God wasn't done there...5 of her friends, and one of their boyfriends came up in just a few seconds and began to listen to what God was saying through me.
      "But," said the girl that had come up first. " you live in the US. Everything is easy for you there. Of course you can follow God." This shocked me! She really that? That life was perfect for us? If only she knew!
     "Honey," the Holy Spirit kicked in and took over. "It isn't a fairy land. Life isn't perfect or easy for me. I don't know what you are going through, but I am going through troubles too. I have a heart condition that makes doing this drama nearly impossible. Three days ago I was laying on a floor crying because I couldn't stay on my feet long enough to be the dragon. But I have a joy in knowing that God will use my weaknesses to show His glory. I love God because he loves me, not because he gives me things. He blesses me with life, and promises never to leave me. It can be the same for you all!"
      Tears were streaming down all seven faces...eyes were welled up, and the realization that God is good even when we are not registered in each of their hearts. I was blessed with hugs and kisses and "Mi Hermana en Jesus Cristo"s. 7 new siblings in Christ!

     God used my weakness to show his perfect strength. And as the trip continued it became easier and easier for my body to take the weight of the drama. By the time we performed our last, the only thing I suffered was the same heavy breathing and sweatiness as everyone else on my team.  
     It was when I was weak, that I was strong.

    Because Kayla shared her testimony, a girl came specifically to her and asked to hear more. Because she shared more, that girl accepted Christ. Marc spoke with a Buddhist boy who left with a spirit of longing, saying he needed to study more but that he had been "given very good things to think about". Whitney Maie prayed for the group the whole time and was moved to awe as she say for the first time people breaking down in tears at the sound of the Gospel. God moved in my team. God moved in Panama.

Have I told you of the great things God has done?

God Wants to Hold Me

     A dear teacher of mine delivered her second child, a boy, in December. I have had the joy of babysitting her three year old little girl, and was thrilled to have a second sweet child to watch over! I simply didn't know I would get to so soon after the little one's birth. As both she and her husband have day jobs, little Josiah comes to school with my teacher. Yes, he comes with her, but from the moment he wakes up to the moment he leaves he is in our arms. I have been able to hold him, feed him, keep him close every morning for two weeks and it will keep going!
    I had only one qualm. I do not smell like his mama. When Josiah gets sleepy, he wants something familiar...his mama. He has never felt comfortable enough to sleep on me in the last two weeks. Until just a few days ago.
    The high school and middle school were all going to watch "The Passion of the Christ", and my teacher was giving a bit of background before it began. She walked with me to the gym, and passed Josiah to my eager arms. I held his bottle up and the little guy got simply thrilled: FOOD!  All through the presentation I fed him, when he finished I rocked him.
    For one moment I looked up, and that was all it took...he was out like a light.
    We moved ourselves back upstairs to the now empty classroom, and turned on some quiet worship music and sat down in the big comfy desk chair. He barely stirred.
    For three hours we stayed that way: a sleeping bundle of peace curled up to my neck, breathing steadily as I held him close. (Seriously, they should bottle that new baby smell...amazing!) As I looked out the window and rubbed Josiah's little back, I had a thought:
    This is how God wants to hold me.
     I was hit. I couldn't move. I knew the joy I felt in my own heart, holding a baby that wasn't even mine. Knowing that he was comfortable enough, trusting enough, to sleep on me...to let all of his defenses down and let me watch over him. I was amazed.
    God wants me to be at ease with him. To not worry about what is going on around me, but to simply curl up on his chest and fall asleep to His own steady breathing. He will rock me, and watch out for anything that might hurt me, or wake me up.
    And he will feel joy...JOY...in doing so. He will be ecstatic when I finally decide that I trust Him that much! God will get the giggles when I snuggle up to his neck and let go of my pretenses.
    How he loves us. Not how much, but how.
    God wants to hold you while you sleep. Let go of your worries, and let him!

Love God : Be Known

     "Who is this girl I see, staring straight back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don't know?"
                -Disney Princess: Mulan
    
     "You know me"
                -Any desperate guy on a sappy romance movie in a relationship-gone-bad situation

     "You want someone who knows you, even better than you know yourself."
               -Frederick Arlington: The Inhertance

     "I want someone who loves me for me!"
               -Anistasia: Cinderella 3

     Seemingly random quotes, yes, but I do have a point: We all want to be known. Don't we? We leave little hints on dates, we fill out "get to know me" cards the first day of school, we ask random questions and answer eaven stranger ones when talking in groups. And as our relationships deepen, so does our longing to know and be known...you get what I mean.
     To be known, is to belong. To belong, is to be loved. To be loved, is every happiness.
     But people fail. We can't know to the extent that many need. We can't have a place for each person to independently and exclusively belong. We can't unconditionaly love.
    We Come Short
    Humans don't have the ability to know, accept, and love like the ability God has for his Children, his Lover, his Bride. He has the capability to litterally see our DNA, he KNOWS what we are made from, the very dust that pulls together the first atom of our pinky finger...he knows it's name.
    Even better: God Knows Our Soul. Ladies, he knows why we become deleriosly happy when the couple finally realizes their love for eachother and finally kiss. Gents, he knows why you find it thrilling to "ooh" and "dangit" and "YES!" for a little leather pouch that some fourty-odd men are scrabbling over. He knows what makes each of us giddy, mournful, joyus, and upset. He knows. He told me so.

    1 Corinthians 8:3 "But the man who loves God, is known by God."
  
    Psalm 139:13 "For you created my very being..."

    Isaiah 49:16a "See, I (the LORD) have engraved you on the palm of my hands."

   Our God, knows us. Better still, He wants to know us! Only God can fully know each of us to the exact degree that we need, and long for. No human will ever come close to this kind of knowing.
     I have just read a book (go figure, I'm always reading) maybe you've heard of it: "The Shack"?
     I know this book was the topic of much debate, and I've settled it in my own my mind. If you like it, you do. If you dislike it, you do. I do not care wheather it completely offended you, or changed your faith. There was however one thing said that caused me to think very long and hard.

     "You don't play a game or color a picture with a child to show your superiority. Rather, you choose to limit yourself to facilitate and honor that relationship." -Papa

     The character speaking is the epitome of God the Father. What was said was that God limits himself when he is with us, so he can be in a relationship of knowing. God knows all, yes. But have we ever considered that he wants to get to know us anyway? What would be the fun in a relationship if only you were asking the questions? It is the same with God. He reveals himself to us, but he also longs for us to reveal ourselves to him.
     He created us, you can't get much more of an understanding of someone than by doing that. We don't have to search in a relationship with another human for someone to know you, you can search in God. He will always be there. He will fully know, completely accept, and unconditionally love what he finds in your heart, mind and soul.

Surrender Brings Peace - and Joy Follows Peace Like a Lost Puppy

     Opinionated, stubborn, and outspoken. These are the three words that I have most often heard to describe my character, sometimes in a good way - sometimes not. Being from Mississippi, I can see very clearly where this strong suite came from. Everyone in the South follows the same three lines, and most of them can be traced right into my family. (Honestly, I think one of my uncles must have been the inventor of the phrase "You're Wrong".)  Be that as it may, you have to learn sometime that your characteristic habits don't mean squat to God.
     For the past three years I have been on the move. At any given time before a school break, or the summer, if you were to call me - I would be packing my bags. Off to somewhere far away and new, with a passel of students around me who were following God with their lives and time. New people to meet, and the Gospel to present. Go. Go. Go...so what do I do when God tells me to stay?
     Fight it, of course.
     For three months I went through the same argument with God, and for three months God said the same thing: Stay. All of my opinionated, stubborn, outspoken self came out to fight the call to stay...I was going to go, that was that. It was what I knew. He must be crazy! (Which certainly wasn't the case, and it was me who had lost her senses for thinking that He didn't know what He was about!).
     It didn't take long, though, before I started to wear down. So few things were actually going for me, I didn't have any utsvah left to pack a punch. I knew God was going to win in the end any way, that I was just fighting an impossible current. So many tears spilled into the night I finally let it go, you would think my were trying to one-up Hoover Dam with a missing wall! But I knew that since God was keeping me in the states, He would bring me to ministry here. Even if it was just going to be the ministry of my own heart.
     In those tears, I opened my Bible to Psalms. Just like in a book, a verse came leaping off of the page at me.

     {Psalm 37: 4} "Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart."

     "Okay God," I whispered. "It is yours. I'm done...gosh. You know I want to go...but I want what You have more than that." And with that I fell asleep.
     Not that I slept a whole heck of a lot, my alarm went off six hours later. 5:30am, and off to school. But I think that this was the best morning of the school year. Not a thought of the previous night was passing through my head, I was at peace with it and needed no more discussion on it. Reliant K was playing through my earphones, and I was wide awake (odd for a school day). 
     The sun was just coming up as we exited the highway and headed toward the school building. Bright, clear, blue skies with a few pink clouds: beautiful. And then...black. I couldn't see anything. Time, I am sure, went by in less than two seconds; to me it seemed like two decades. Then, right on top of the darkness, was one word - white, bold, and (haha!) in Times New Roman font:
     PANAMA.
     And just like that, it was the beautiful 6 o'clock, October morning I had left just a few moments before. Only two words came out "Okay God.", but those two words were definitely accompanied with a smile!
     The power of surrender amazes me even now, four months later, when I think of it. I fought, and fought - and fought - but when I finally let go, I had unimaginable peace. As though every stress that had troubled me for the three months of fighting was suddenly gone. It didn't even bother to cross my mind. I was completely accepting of God's plan and no longer doubted that He knew what He was going to do. And when I finally agreed to step forward in His plan, He was able to show me the next step...the one I couldn't see while I had my back turned to Him.
     It is the same peace he wants for everyone, and the same joy. All we have to do is delight ourselves in Him...peace will follow with surrender, and joy always follows peace.

I Am So Eager...Right?

     We moved. From Tulsa, Oklahoma -my home of ten years- to Overland Park, Kansas. 243miles away from everything I knew as a child, 4 and 1/2 hours apart from every familiar face. Every stage of shock you can imagine, I have gone through. The most detrimental however, was the stage where I pulled into myself. I stopped reaching out. I no longer cared. (May the Reader be advised that this is a terrible mistake, and though it is very appealing, making a bubble-space has a high price as you will see in the following text.)
     My key problem? At first I thought it to be culture shock. Coming from the Bible Belt of the universe, a church on every corner, and a tent revival every Saturday, to a crumbling school in the middle of Shack Town. Whereas I had only heard a handful of cuss words growing up, foul language is the norm here. Teen parenthood? Yeah, the guy sitting a few seats away is the father of two kids- he is seventeen. So maybe culture shock has a little bit to do with it. But I know the real reason I stopped reaching out.
     Selfishness.
     Straight-up, it is the biggest struggle I have. And while it was easy to suppress when surrounded by mostly good things, the phrase "the darkness around draws out the darkness within" comes to mind. And I had given up the fight, lost the motivation to stop it. I could no longer see that any one here really needed my Savior, it wasn't like they wanted him anyway. So I simply stopped...no longer concerned myself with the preaching of the Gospel. And the worst part is this: I was in full knowledge of what I was doing the whole time.
     So when I was hit on the head with a spiritual 2x4 this morning, I wasn't at all surprised.
     Pastor Joe had us all open our Bibles to Romans 1, and together we read verses 14-17.

"I am obligated both to the Greeks and non-Greeks, both to the wise and the foolish. That is why I am so eager to preach the gospel also to you who are at Rome. I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes: first for the Jew, then for the Gentile. For in the gospel a righteousness from God is revealed, a righteousness that is by faith from the first to the last, just as it is written: "The righteous shall live by faith." "

     Paul was obligated, to anyone and everyone. Paul was eager, to share the gospel with all categories. Not only was Paul this way, but so was Christ...and isn't it Christ that I claim to imitate? It is. And the first step is overcoming that selfishness, and that arrogance.
     It does not matter what a person's culture is, it does not matter how lonely I feel, it does not matter the obstacles I placed in between me and the people I spend each day with...what matters is that I give it to GOD, start over, and preach His Word.
     Monday, that is tomorrow. It will be a new week, fresh start. My obligations are not to this world, my hope is in higher places...my heart is in His will, so it is time I let go of my own. I encourage who ever might be reading this to do the same thing, take the Romans challenge. Be eager.
     Sharing the gospel is one thing, and it will bless many people. But it is when we find an eagerness to share the gospel that we are blessed in return.