Thinking with my mouth open...and fingers moving.

So we are stateside again. Sorry for not checking in sooner. It's been a strange month of readjusting and change. And while change can often times be very good, it remains to be hard. So we are adjusting and reentering a culture that is so different from what we experienced in Africa. And my mind is reeling with convictions and concerns and ideas of the imagination that will only lead me to trouble with many. And yet the gifting that the Spirit has bestowed upon me compels me to speak and share, yet my heart would crumble at the thought of disparaging the beautiful Bride. And so I wonder and pray of where to start, hoping that words of exhortation would move some to action of some form.

Jesus said to His followers, "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. Those were his parting thoughts, laying out the vision and expectation of the Church. What is the Church to do from here on out?

Be His witnesses. Speak up, testify as to who Jesus is, give evidence of His power.

Be like Him.

The problem is, most of the time, this is reduced to just becoming better people, good people who live with superior standards of morals. They have attained righteousness because they don't drink alcohol, don't smoke, don't cuss, pay their bills on time, are responsible citizens, and are just generally much nicer people.

But I must confess that I have met a lot of really nice people who don't know a thing about Jesus, much less love Him. But they were really nice people and, should they come to confess Jesus, would fit very nicely into most churches that I know.

There are also many who I know who I would never guess are followers of Jesus until I see them at a Sunday morning church service with arms raised in emotional rapture. Where was that emotional rapture a few days ago as they looked down on the homeless person begging on the corner?

If we are called to be set apart, then why do we blend so well? Is my heart so set apart that others would know I am different, that I follow a different Way? Or do I try to blend, go with the flow, not make waves? Do I do what I do because this is how we've always done it so it must be the way it is done? But then, there is the Way, and it's different, radical, set apart, and I am drawn to it.

Here's one of the things that I love about Jesus: He put legs on words that He taught. He didn't just sit around, week after week, meeting with His small group to discuss the ins and outs of the teachings of the Prophets. He was a man of action. When he taught that we are to feed the hungry, He broke bread and fed 5,000. When He taught that we are visit the sick, He raised one from the dead. When He taught that we are to care for the orphans and widows, He reprimanded his disciples as He gathered the littles one unto Himself. When He taught that we are to messengers of compassion, and mercy, He stood up for the adulteress. When He taught that we are to give water to the thirsty, He quenched the thirst of a Samaritan woman who had searched for a lifetime. When He taught us to turn the other cheek, He donned a crown of thorns and laid bare His back for 40 lashes. When He taught us that it is better to give than it is to receive, He gave His life for the salvation of the world.

In the quiet places of my heart, there is a stirring that disturbs the hush. There is a rumble that begs for more. There is an uneasiness that is sure it has missed something.

Isn't there more to this life than going through the motions of Church and becoming a really nice person? What do we do with passages like Matthew 25, where are told very clearly that honoring Jesus means feeding the hungry, giving water to the thirsty, providing housing for the stranger, and clothes for the naked, visiting the sick and imprisoned? He did not mince words when He said, "Away from me! I never knew you."

Those words haunt me as I seek Him out.

You know me, right? Am I walking in obedience to you?

And so my heart wonders and imagines. What if we got crazy radical with this obedience to Him?

Oh, mercy, I'm just getting warmed up.

Settling In

These past few days have really been down days of settling and figuring out a new normal of life here in Kenya. The past month seems to have gone by like quite a whirlwind, full of some intense highs and even more intense lows. But by God's grace we are all still standing and moving forward in life.

This has been an interesting and humbling season of life for me. I was so intensely excited about returning to Kenya, as it has been 2 years since we were here as a family. I was excited to be able to be a part of the teams that travel around and meet with different people in communities across Kenya. I used to love traveling around and being a part of the adventure. I say used to because life has really changed much in the last several years, and children have changed the landscape of my adventure.

But I tried to keep up with the teams that were here last month, as we traveled from place to place to place. We had jet lag, sicknesses, cranky children, cranky mama, and challenging circumstances to work through. I wish that I could say that I maneuvered through them all gracefully and gently, but I did not. I was struggling through many different issues, and displayed not one fruit of the spirit for that time period.  Sigh. Sometimes I wonder if there are just some of us who are just too far gone, beyond hope of repair.

It was hard for me to let go of the notion of being able to participate with the teams and the various meetings that were going on, all the while, my three little people were calling for my attention and needing their mama to be their mama. So rather than joyfully attending to my children, I was bitter about being pulled away from the gatherings where I would be informed of things that were going on in the communities or general upcoming plans. I have really had to seek God's face in asking Him what He would have me do here and how He would have me serve. It is humbling when the response is not necessarily what I would have chosen first, as it is much less glamorous and behind-the-scenes.

And so these days I am getting settled into our house here in Nairobi and helping my girls recognize a new normal here at home. We are doing laundry by hand, which has led to bleeding knuckles that just don't seem to heal. We have ventured into the surrounding neighborhood to meet local vendors in their shabby kiosks. This will be our new grocery store, as the supermarket here is very expensive and meant for wealthy foreigners. We are foreigners, but wealthy we are not. So I will learn to buy local. We even have a small garden in the back of the house that has provided our family meals a time or two!

I am getting braver everyday about driving to a new place and discovering my way around. Today I actually drove by myself and my three little people in towards town to meet with some old friends. I drove there on one route and returned home by a different route, and did not get lost! I was immensely proud of myself for this feat! I have discovered that the key to driving in Nairobi is to be aggressive. In fact, every time I get behind the wheel of our old beast of a Land Cruiser, the old cheer runs through my head: "Be aggressive! Be, be aggressive!" I have realized that if you are brave enough to stick your nose out in traffic, you get the right of way to go first. That becomes like a dare! All kinds of fun!

So that's where we are for now. Nothing glamorous or exciting really. Not really what folks want to hear from of a missionary in the field, but this is my humble lot for today. And by God's grace, I will fill it.

Life of Service, Part 3

Here’s the thing: every single one of us has been called to serve. Serving is what sets followers of Christ apart from the rest of the world. Serving is what defines us as grace-filled, merciful, loving, and selfless people. Serving gives legs to the words we profess. The question is simply where and in what capacity. Jesus told his followers in Acts 1:8, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

We are called to be His witnesses, to be those who will stand and give an account of who he is and what he has done. When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we say, “Your Kingdom come, Your will be done.” If that doesn’t happen in us and through us, why are we asking for Him to do it?

What does it look like when God’s Kingdom comes?

What did it look like when the King of the Kingdom came?

He fed the hungry with a small boy’s simple lunch. He actually fed thousands of them.

He visited the sick and raised the dead back to life. On multiple occasions.

He broke bread with the thief after calling him down from a tree. The thief in turn repaid not only all that he had stolen, but more to make amends.

He defended the adulteress by writing a word in the sand and welcoming those who were without sin to cast the first stone. Amazing how quickly a crowd disperses. 

He visited a man imprisoned by his insanity, shunned to the graves by his people, and then healed him by driving out his demons and restored him to community.

He cured the lonely outcasted woman who had bled for 12 years when she touched the hem of his garment. He was her last hope. He came through for her. 

Scripture says:

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

He stood before his disciples, those he called friends, and he bent over to the ground, and he scrubbed their dirty, dusty, dry and cracked feet, drying them on the towel around his waist. 

And then he came to the friend who would betray. The friend who would sell him out. The friend who would hand him over and begin the process that would lead to his crucifixion and death. He came to this friend, and he knelt to the floor, washed his dirty, dusty, dry and cracked feet...and dried them on the towel around his waist.

But he still had one more. From there he moved to his friend, his dear, precious friend, with whom he had spent many hours of many days, teaching, loving, sharing, cherishing. And this friend...this friend would deny him altogether. 

Could you possibly imagine how this would have affected the man Jesus? What about the time we spent together? The walks we took? The conversations we had? All that we went through? And you’re going to deny me? You don’t know me at all?

Three times this friend denied that he ever knew Jesus at all. And Jesus bent low to the ground before him, and gently, lovingly, tenderly, scrubbed his dirty, dusty, dry and cracked feet and dried them on the towel around his waist.

What I particularly want you to see is this: Jesus served all of these people, and so many more, without any hesitation, without pretense, without considering whether He was being taken advantage of or being used. He washed the feet of all of the disciples as if all of them were standing on even ground.

I have to say that if it were me, when I got to those last two, I might have been more inclined to dump the water directly on them and walk away rather than tenderly washing their deceiving feet. But not Jesus. Unconditional. I love you, period.

Then Jesus said, “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”

And then that very King allowed himself to be lead through the streets of Jerusalem, after being beaten and scorned. The most powerful being in the world allowed himself to be nailed to a Roman cross by the very hands that He himself created.

This is what makes the follower of Christ different from a humanist or any other ideology around the world. Christ has taught, nay, modeled for us sacrificial, unconditional, “I love you, period” kind of love. Because in the end, we are reminded that it’s not about us or what we get in return. It's about serving and loving the King. It's about representing Him well. 

Tomorrow I'll share with you how God fleshed it out for me...

Life of Service, Part 2

So what does a life of service look like?

This is what Jesus said about it:

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

         You know what I really love about that passage? They had to ask the King when they had served him! They said, “Lord, when did we do those things??” Seriously? They didn’t know?? 

No, they didn’t know they were serving the King in their day-to-day acts of service. Service was such a part of their world, of their everyday life, it wasn’t a chore or extra errand for them to check off of a list; it was their passion of life.

What does a life of service look like? I think that in order to fully answer that, we must first understand what God has asked of us. When He calls us to serve, what does He mean?

Isaiah 58 is one of the most powerful passages on this. Starting in verse 7, this is what God has said,

“What I’m interested in seeing you do is: sharing your food with the hungry, inviting the homeless poor into your homes, putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad, being available to your own families. Do this and the lights will turn on…

Continuing in verse 9…

“If you get rid of unfair practices, quit blaming victims, quit gossiping about other people’s sins, if you are generous with the hungry and start giving yourselves to the down-and-out, your lives will begin to glow in the darkness, your shadowed lives will be bathed in sunlight.

And then in verse 11, for anyone looking for hope, here’s a word for you…

“I will always show you where to go. I’ll give you a full life in the emptiest of places - firm muscles, strong bones. You’ll be like a well-watered garden, a gurgling spring that never runs dry. You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundations from out of your past. You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate, make the community livable again.

Seriously, yall! As they say in Texas, if that doesn’t light your fire with hope, your wood is wet!

Further Scripture says this about the topic:

James 1:14-17

         What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

2 Corinthians 8:13

Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard pressed, but that there might be equality. At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. Then there will be equality, as it is written: “He who gathered much did not have too much, and he who gathered little did not have too little.”

Proverbs 3:27

Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act.

         I know that many have studied the Proverbs 31 woman, the lady who set the bar entirely too high for us. She frustrates me to no end, but when I went back to read about her again in light of Isaiah 58, one thing stood out to me. 

A wife of noble character who can find? 

       She is worth far more than rubies.

 ¹¹ Her husband has full confidence in her 

       and lacks nothing of value.

 ¹² She brings him good, not harm, 

       all the days of her life.

 ¹³ She selects wool and flax 

       and works with eager hands.

 ¹⁴ She is like the merchant ships, 

       bringing her food from afar.

 ¹⁵ She gets up while it is still dark; 

       she provides food for her family 

       and portions for her servant girls.

 ¹⁶ She considers a field and buys it; 

       out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

 ¹⁷ She sets about her work vigorously; 

       her arms are strong for her tasks.

 ¹⁸ She sees that her trading is profitable, 

       and her lamp does not go out at night.

 ¹⁹ In her hand she holds the distaff 

       and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

 ²⁰ She opens her arms to the poor 

       and extends her hands to the needy.

 ²¹ When it snows, she has no fear for her household; 

       for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

 ²² She makes coverings for her bed; 

       she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

 ²³ Her husband is respected at the city gate, 

       where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.

 ²⁴ She makes linen garments and sells them, 

       and supplies the merchants with sashes.

 ²⁵ She is clothed with strength and dignity; 

       she can laugh at the days to come.

 ²⁶ She speaks with wisdom, 

       and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

 ²⁷ She watches over the affairs of her household 

       and does not eat the bread of idleness.

 ²⁸ Her children arise and call her blessed; 

       her husband also, and he praises her:

 ²⁹ "Many women do noble things, 

       but you surpass them all."

 ³⁰ Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; 

       but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

 ³¹ Give her the reward she has earned, 

       and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. 

Did you hear it? In the midst of all that she had going on in her life, while selecting wool and flax, while bringing food, while buying a field and planting a vineyard, while spinning clothes and making bed coverings, somehow in the midst of all of that, she did not forget God’s command:

Verse 20 says, She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. This excellent wife, this amazing mother whose children rise up to call her blessed, she did not forget the commands of the Lord. Amidst the whirlwinds of her busy life, she did not forget that first and foremost, she has been called a servant of the Most High God. She did not forget what He had called her to do. 

So if this great woman, this example to us all, should we not follow her lead in the area as well?

More to come...

A Life of Service

Serving others is one of the great hallmarks of the Christian life. But before it can be fully embraced and incorporated into life, it is first important to understand whom it is that we serve, what it is that we serve, and to what end. Why do we do what we do? Otherwise it can be easy to lose focus, become distracted and knocked off course. Scripture says that where there is no vision, the people will perish, and so let us contend for the faith, get ahold of the vision of service, and walk in it. 

This is a bumper sticker that is produced and sold by an organization called The American Humanist Association. This is what their website says about them:

We strive to bring about a progressive society where being “good without god” is an accepted way to live life. We are accomplishing this through our defense of civil liberties and secular governance, by our outreach to the growing number of people without religious belief or preference, and through a continued refinement and advancement of the humanist worldview.

Bordered on one side by the transcendental views of traditional religions and mythologies and on the other by atheism and secularism, the values we hold are grounded in the philosophy of the Enlightenment, informed by scientific knowledge, and driven by a desire to meet the needs of people in the here and now.

We count humanists and other nontheists as the core of our movement but are always willing to work with friends and allies on issues of common concern.  The positions we hold and the actions we take are not simply for our own benefit, but for the betterment of all of society.

         

This organization argues that people are fundamentally good in and of themselves and can essentially work together for the betterment of society by their own good intentions. There are several problems with this, though:

1. People are not fundamentally good in and of themselves. Genesis 6:5 says, “The Lord saw how great man’s wickedness on the earth had become, and that every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time.” If this is what the Creator sees of us, how can we possibly think that we can do good all by ourselves?

2. Good is relative. The line of good is pushed and swayed by whatever is acceptable by culture for that time period. The definition is based on what the majority says. Scripture says that there is a way that seems right to man, but in the end it leads to death. Even the AHA website says that their worldview is continually being refined and advanced. If we are not basing our directions, our decisions, and our definitions on what Scripture has laid out for us, how will they stand against the shifting sands of time?

I am currently reading the Gayle Haggard’s book called, “Why I Stayed.” For those who don’t know the story, her husband is Ted Haggard. Up until the end of 2006, he was the senior pastor of a 14,000-member mega-church in Colorado Springs. In November of 2006, it was discovered that he had fallen into great sin, including sexual immorality, infidelity, and illegal drug use. The fall of a godly man such as Ted Haggard is overwhelmingly tragic, but what really breaks my heart, was the church’s response to it all.

There was a board of overseers in place to hold him accountable, which is good and biblical. But it strayed from biblical when he was not only removed from leadership (which was called for), but he was also removed from the fellowship of the church. He was essentially put into exile and not allowed to be a part of the body of Christ.

Gayle Haggard writes in her book that she kept waiting for the Church to show forgiveness, to show grace. She kept waiting for the body of Christ to welcome them back into the fellowship, based on Scripture. She was looking at Paul’s letter to the Church at Corinth, when he wrote about the church’s need to welcome back in a previously unrepentant sinner.

Paul wrote, “The punishment inflicted on him by the majority is sufficient for him. Now instead, you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love for him.”

She was looking for the church to step into role, and yet they didn’t. There was no one among them who was willing to step up and shout out, “Wait a minute! What we are doing does not line up with Scripture!”

See, there is a way that seems right to man, but in the end it leads to death. Good is relative. The Word of God is not. We cannot rely on our own goodness to serve others, which leads us to the third point.

3. Being good to others without the shadow of the cross in your life will always place self first. It looks like this: I’ll take care of me and my family first and then from whatever I have left over, I’ll serve others. From whatever money, time and energy I have left over at the end of my crazy days, I’ll serve others.”

But that wasn’t the way of Christ. Christ never placed himself first, even though He had every reason in the world to do so. Even in His darkest hour, He still humbled himself to say, “Not my will, but your will be done.” Christ teaches us sacrifice. This is what separates followers of Christ from anyone else in the world. He teaches us to put others first, and our own needs second.

As wives and mothers of young children, I know it already feels like we put everyone else before ourselves. We take care of our husbands and our children to the point of exhaustion.

I clothe the naked every morning as my little ones jump out of their pajamas and run around the house in nothing more than the beautiful skin God gave them. I feed the hungry several times a day as tiny mouths open wide like baby birds waiting for their mouths to be filled.

But is that really what Christ was talking about? Are we really serving the least of these of brothers of His? Who are the least of these?

As a mom, I look at my three angels and am overwhelmed at their potential in this life. What will God do with them? What is His calling for them?  What is my vision for my children? Do I want them to be good, church-going kids who turn into responsible citizens, or do I want them to be world changers, radically in love with Jesus? And just as the King of kings changed the world by sacrificing everything, I want to model for my children what that looks like.

So what does that look like?

More tomorrow to come...

Do You Trust Me?

My father has heart disease. His first heart attack was several years ago, and at that time, he received his first of several subsequent stents. And so while this is not new information for us, it has not yet become easier when news arrives that my father is having chest pain and is now in the hospital.

That was the phone call that I received a couple of days ago. My mother had called early in the morning to notify me that my father had been having chest pain, so they spent the night in the ER where he showed some changes on his EKG, and was soon to be admitted to a hospital bed while his pain continued to be evaluated. But this time was different because he wasn't here, with me, but in another state. My folks moved to Texas at the beginning of this year, and so now my dad was sitting in a hospital over 900 miles away from me. Ever felt helpless?

As my mom was relaying all the information to me on the phone and tears began to pour down my cheeks, what I heard in my heart was a question that I dread to answer. He has asked it of me many times before in my life, and somehow, I have always managed to avoid answering it. Maybe that was answer enough. And yet again, He was pressing in, asking...

Do you trust me?

Well, by head knowledge, this is an easy answer. By head knowledge, I know what I should say. But really...in my heart...I mean, this is my daddy we were talking about.

I worked in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit here in Tucson for over 10 years. I've seen more deaths than I could ever recall. I've carried some of the most precious of God's children to the morgue. I've seen prayers for healing, and the grief and anguish of prayers unanswered. I've seen weeping and wailing as parents cry out for the God of mercy to lay His healing hands on their babies. And I've seen it go unanswered. It all seems so haphazard. No rhyme or reason as to why this one was saved and this one passed. No formula that works and no guarantee that this prayer, this intercession, will "work."

Needless to say, this has become quite a sticky point for me in my walk. How do I pray for healing, how do I step in faith with this request, knowing how unreliable He has seemed through the years? Can I trust You? I don't know. You are so unpredictable.

Ugh. Did I just say God is unreliable? Many times, it seems easier to simply not ask, as it seems that God is going to do what He wills to do, regardless of the pleas of broken hearts and hurting souls. I came across this verse today in 1 Samuel 15:29:

He who is the Glory of Israel does not lie or change his mind; for he is not man, that he should change his mind.

It's a sticky point, and I'm sure that there are some great theological answers to this struggle, and great, pat Chistianese-answers that would rebuke me for even asking the questions, but that morning, as I sat on the floor of my bathroom weeping, helplessness overtook me. And my God said, "Do you trust me?" and I replied, "How can I?"

And Then It Got Real...Scary

**Continued from yesterday's post**

Coasting on the wave of having seen a soul come to glory only lasted a short while, as God began to whisper gently to my heart. His whisper is so gentle, though the message itself is not always so soft.

"Tell your story."

I'm sorry, what? Maybe You have forgotten where we are, and what I've been through (because You are so forgetful, right?). I argued with God, because that's productive and effective. I was sure that He was wrong, or maybe I just heard Him wrong. But He continued to press.

"Tell your story."

After surrendering to the fact that God's perseverance is much stronger than my own, and with great fear and trembling, I consented to share my testimony with the large group of prisoners. Now, this wasn't just a sweet story about growing up in church and coming to a realization that I needed a Savior. Nope. My story is a bit different. It's laced with a rape when I was 18, which led to years of alcoholism and various drug addictions. If it was out there and could numb my pain, I gave it a go, and then some, until I was completely incapable of being sober and absolutely loathed who I had become. Addictions like that will lead a person to do things that she never thought she would ever even consider, let alone be capable of doing. And yet she did them. I did them. Yep, this was the story that I got to share with that large group of prisoners, locked up for every crime under the sun, including what I had done, and what had been done to me.

When the large group time finished and everyone dispersed into their small groups, my group of one became a group of 8 men, unknown to me up to that point. They had questions for me. They had questions about how I felt about being raped. WHAT? Seriously? And over the course of the conversation that ensued, I discovered that every single one of them had been incarcerated for rape. They had been the cause of such deep pain and humiliation to someone else. They had questions, and so they asked, and I did my best to not vomit on them, or melt down in a puddle of tears.

By the time I left that day, I was pretty sure that I couldn't return. I was pretty sure that God had made a mistake, or that I had misunderstood Him and I had made a tremendous mistake. How could I have been so transparent? How could I have been so naive as to tell my story? I was so angry, so disgusted by what I had just experienced. I felt like all that I had buried for years under alcohol, drugs, and then church life, had just been resurfaced and was laid bare for all the world to see. All my wounds, all my hurts, all my disappointments and failures had just been violently ripped open into a gaping wound for these people, these prisoners, these criminals to see.

As I sat weeping on the floor that night, I could hear that whisper yet again.

"Go back."

Hmmm, maybe You missed what happened today. Maybe you missed the questions they were asking me. Maybe You missed the pain I was in at this moment. Maybe you missed the uncontrollable tears that have been pouring down for the past several hours. I think that I will not be going back.

"Go back. My work has just begun."

Oh, mercy. Just begun, really? That means it could get a lot worse before it gets any better.

On some level, it did get worse. But on other levels, it got so much better. Forgiveness was about to happen....

God's on the move! Either go with, or get out of the way!

But the next day came. The sun rose over the Indian ocean in all its splendor announcing the new mercies of God. And off to prison we went.

We had our large group time in which one of my team members spoke a message to the whole, which I was more than happy to have nothing to do with. If you know me at all, I am quite the introvert. That is probably why I am much happier sitting on this side of the keyboard, knowing that anyone whose eyes may come across my words will actually be fairly removed from me in person. Somehow that's much more comfortable for me. I know, I'm a coward. But God is merciful and patient, and so I hung out at the back waiting for large group to disperse.

When the large group broke up, the young man who had demanded conversation the day before approached me once again. I sat down with him, with great fear and trembling. What would I say today? How would I pass the time until we could get out of there? How would it go?

He began: "You gave me a story to read yesterday."

Me: "Yes, I did." (Hear great trembling in the tiny voice that came out, maybe even some cracks in it.)

Man: "Well, I read it. Over and over again last night."

Me: "Oh, wow." (searching brain frantically. what do I say??? what do I say now??)

Man: "The story was about Zacchaeus. He was a thief. And Jesus called him out and wanted to sit with him, break bread with him. Jesus forgave him all his sins."

Me: "Yes, that's true." (seriously grasping here for SOMETHING to say. nothing comes to mind or tongue)

Man: "I'm a thief. I'm serving time for robbery and assault."

Me: "Oohh. Ok..." (ahhh!! what do I say? what do I do? scanning courtyard for closest exit!)

Man: "So, what I was wondering is this: if Jesus was able to sit with Zacchaeus and forgive him all his sins, do you think He would do the same for me?"

Me: "Huh?" (did I miss something? because it sounds a whole lot like there's some salvation taking place here, and I might have missed it in my fear and unbelief!)

Man: "Do you think that Jesus would forgive me too?"

Me: "Well, yes. Yes, I do think that He would forgive you."

Man: "That's what I thought too, so last night I asked Jesus to save me from my sins."

Me: "Huh?" (what just happened here? did a man just get saved?!?! and I got to be there for his harvest???!?!?!)

As my body began to relax in my seat a bit, and the realization of what had just happened truly sunk in, I began to smile, which then turned to outright laughter. I did nothing. In fact, I just barely showed up. With much grumbling and disbelief, I displayed a tiny (teeny tiny!) amount of obedience to at least show up, and was able to witness an incredible harvest that had been planted and tended to for years. Imagine!

Over the next few days, I kind of sat back, breathing deeply, thinking that I had done what God had taken me there to do. I was coasting until our time was up there.

Silly girl, God had just begun. He was moving and that was my warning shot. Get moving with Him, or get out of the way. He was about to blow my socks off. At least I got a warning shot.

Hang with me...I'm coming to a point...

Thoughts from an Apostle's Wife

So, I am the wife an apostle. Truly, a real, live, world-traveling, tongue speaking, persecution enduring, Christ following, obedient apostle. His calling is clear, and his heart is totally sold out. So proud of my husband.

I often think about Peter's wife. I wish I knew her name, other than Peter's wife. I imagine that she was an incredible, blessed, humble woman of God. I wish I could be like her. I wonder if she struggled when her man was away. He was gone for looooong stretches. I wonder if she ever asked him, "Peter, where ya been for the last three years, or so? Whatcha been doing? Don't you miss me?" I wonder if she ever wished Peter would return to the fishing boat and bring home the bacon. I wonder if she ever wished for a more "normal" life. But her husband was called, and he answered. He followed Jesus to his dying day, and became a great shepherd of the Church in the process.

I wish God had left more stories for us(me) about women such as Peter's wife. I love the stories of Peter and all that he did in obedience to Christ, but what about the ones supporting him?What about the ones who stayed behind? What were their lessons? How did they grow and move in faith? How did they avoid resentment and bitterness? Whom did their lives impact in their quiet obedience?

I remember a letter that I had sent to my husband when we were corresponding before we got married. It makes me laugh now to think of what I wrote then. I told him that I was not the sort of girl to stay behind taking care of the homefront. I was a goer too, just like him. That's to think about now, as I was getting letters from him at that point in time after being taken hostage by the LRA in northern Uganda, being robbed in Saudi Arabia, being caught in the war raids in Uganda. Although I could definitely do without the kidnapping, imprisonments, and torture, I was sure I was a goer. Just like him. And so he needed to know that once we got married, I was going to be traveling with him. It's all part of the adventure for Christ, right?

Silly, feminist. Turns out women can't do it all. We're not supposed to. I have a calling as well, and a place and seasons to live that out. Turns out for this season of my life, I'll be doing a little less traveling, and a whole lot more foundation laying in the lives of three gorgeous and vivacious girls. And it turns out that this is an incredible ministry too, teaching little ones what it looks like to be obedient in servanthood.

I wish I could talk to Peter's wife. I'm sure she would have some encouraging words for when I am feeling pent up, longing to dream under the expansive African sky, missing my man when he is away. I'm sure that she would remind me that it is, in fact, not about me, and it is all worth it in the end.

I am married to an apostle, and tonight he is home, asleep next to me. And so I will cherish the time before I proudly send him out again. Good night.

Once Again Aware of My Own Brokenness

There are few sights as painfully ugly as my own brokenness. There are few sights that disgust and pain my heart like my own depravity. Tonight I came face to face with it, and all I could say, over and over again, was "forgive me, Jesus."

You see, in my heart, I have boasted about all that we and our children are/have been exposed to. We serve people from many different nations and backgrounds. We engage in various activities that require sacrifice and humility. We have slept on a mat under the massive African sky, and shared a mattress on the floor with the whole family in a small room in a muslim sheik's home. Both of my older girls have had malaria and have recovered just fine from it. I have chalked it all up to the cost we pay to sell ourselves for the sake of the cross, and, unknowingly, it has become an incredible source of pride that is so evil and so divisive. Because in my heart, I had become a "better" Christian than some of those others.

Oh how heart-breaking is the depth of my depravity.

I had inwardly boasted about being willing to take my children to far-out bush villages of Africa, sure that it would make God so proud of me, His daughter. I found great pleasure in myself in being willing to sit with people of other cultures to try to help them out of their broken situations.

Oh how disgusting is the depth of my brokenness.

I thought in my heart that there was no Nineveh that I was not willing to go to, as I had already been to so many. I thought for sure that I was nothing like Jonah, who fled from the Lord when asked to go to a people whom he despised to preach a message of salvation and redemption. I wasn't fleeing from the Lord; I was going. I have gone, over and over again.

And then tonight, I met Angel and she wanted to hold my baby girl.

Hello, Nineveh.

Her sun-dried hands were stained with the smokey odor of an ashtray, long overdue to be cleaned, yellow nails filthy with the toils of street life. Her teeth, brown and broken, spoke of a life riddled with meth and alcohol abuse for far too many years. Her speech was slurred and difficult to understand at times, as one who has had one too many drinks for one too many years, a little slower to make sense of things.

She's loud and rough, looking worn out and brittle. As she reached out for my precious Hannah, all I could think about was how dirty she was, and how I absolutely did not want her to touch my baby girl.

Oh how I hate the depth of my brokenness!

I wasn't there to pass my baby around so the homeless folks could love on her. I was simply there to puts some plates of food on the table before them, fill up their cups with juice, and go home feeling accomplished, another good Christian deed done. But as she reached out to touch my baby, I felt my body physically cringe as my left foot took a small step back. Whoa now. My space is being encroached upon.

Sigh. Forgive me Father. How it must have broken Your heart to see me treat my sister, Your daughter, in such a disgraceful manner. Forgive me.

I tried to rationalize in my mind that Angel wouldn't have known what I was thinking, and I smiled and played along with the conversation so as to not make her feel uncomfortable. So she couldn't have known. Surely she didn't see me tighten up and back away.

Who am I kidding? The dirty old drunk in a half-stupor on the other side of the room saw me stiffen up. A person knows when they are being shut out.

Oh how ashamed I feel. I wasn't there to serve and love anyone. I was there to boost my own pride, and in the meantime, I have dehumanized someone created in the same image of God as me.

I guarantee you it would be easy for me to justify this one. I was a pediatric ICU nurse for years and there are some nasty bugs out there. I was only trying to protect my little one from being exposed to some potentially harmful things. It's not good for her to be so close to 3rd hand smoke like the thick stench that was clinging to Angel's everything. And who knows what all she is carrying around on that dirt-stained skin and nails. I was only trying to protect Hannah. That's my job as her mother.

Wrong. That's not my job. I can no more protect Hannah from the adversities of this world than I could protect her older sisters from getting malaria in Kenya and Ghana. I can no more protect her than I can cause the rain to fall or the sun to set. It's not my job to protect her, but it sure is a nice scapegoat for me to hide behind as her mommy. It is my job to teach her to love, worship and trust God. It is my job to demonstrate to her what it looks like to show up in fullness of heart and love others because God first loved me. It is my job to be an Ambassador of Christ, because for most people, I am the only Bible they will ever read. It is my job to teach them to give away their lives for the sake of the cross. But how can I teach that if I am not living it out? How is it possible for me to love and worship a homeless man on Sunday mornings, and then turn my back on the homeless the rest of the week? What am I teaching my children then?

Forgive me Father for the depth of my depravity. Forgive me for making myself and my comfort more important than the winning of souls and loving of Your children. Forgive me for not serving You, but rather boosting my own foolish pride. Forgive me for making service more about getting a project done than building a relationship with my brothers and sisters. Forgive me for not recognizing Your image in her. Forgive me for the incredible depth of my depravity, and thank you so much for showing it to me.

There are few sights as painfully ugly as my own brokenness. Tonight I saw it face to face. And tonight I receive the mercy of an incredibly patient and merciful God.

Extreme vs. Obedient

So my husband and I went on a date a few days ago (which was sooo wonderful!!). We went to the move theater and saw a movie called "Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed." If you have not yet seen this movie, I cannot recommend it enough, especially as a God-fearing people, because it has incredible implications for the direction that our society, and world as a whole, is going. The movie is a documentary about the tension within the Academia world of Science between those who believe in Intelligent Design vs. those who believe in Darwinism. The tension is not only real, but quite hostile, as those who believe in Darwinism tend to think quite little of their Intelligent Design counterparts, to say the least. There was name calling and personal attacks, not to mention blacklisting for career positions and slandering of character.
There was one part in particular that really stood out to me. One of the Darwinist Scientists was talking about his vision for the future world, saying that the scientific community would like to see science and technology becoming more and more the prevailing guidance and "religion" (as he called it) would be less and less important in a person's life. That decisions would be based upon science and technology more and more, and less and less based on religious beliefs. Where now, they see religion as a "main dish" in a person's life, they would like to see it reduced to a weekend "side dish," a simple Sunday gathering that would be nice for a morning, and then everyone could return to normal life afterwards.
Not only is this scary, but it is already happening. And one of the biggest problems now is that the Church is allowing it to happen. What happen to men and women of integrity who speak the truth boldly, with no fear of natural consequences? What happen to leadership fearing God and not man?
I recently came across a story out of the University of Toledo in Ohio that shocked and greatly disappointed me. You can find the links here. The gist of the story is this:
There was an opinion column published by the University newspaper editor talking about the great injustices being done to the homosexual community, talking about their civil rights were being violated, comparing the injustices of the homosexual community to that against African-Americans or handicaps. A university administrator, and African-American woman, responded to the opinion column with her own opinions on the matter, stating that she strongly disagreed with the comparison of the homosexual community to the African-American or handicapped communities. She cited her own Scriptural beliefs about God's divine order of things and then the natural consequences that come from choices that we make, either in obedience or disobedience to God's divine order.
This university administrator was subsequently suspended from her job by the university president, who cited that her beliefs did not line up with the values of the university. In an official statement, it was said, "Those beliefs are better suited for Sunday morning services only."
Do you see what is happening, friends? Do you see the direction we are headed as a people. My great fear (if it could be called fear) is that the Church in the West will come under great persecution before it decides to wake up and take a stand. The world calls us judgmental and closed-minded because we choose not to embrace the sins of the flesh. I hate my own sin because it breaks the heart of my God. I will no more love the sin in others. But while I will not embrace the sins of the flesh, I will embrace the people, as they were created in the same image of God as I was. It is not a matter of being hateful people, it is a matter of being discerning, hating the actions while loving the people whom God created. That is our great challenge. But we must become a people devoted to standing on the principles of God, speaking truth no matter the consequences, so that the actions of this university administrator would not be seen as extreme, but would be a concerted message from believers across the nation and around the world.
I was at a gathering of believers not too long ago where someone referred to me as the "extreme among them," (presumably because of our calling to serve overseas). That humored me at first, but then made me quite sad. Why would I be thought the extreme, when I am only being obedient? Is true obedience extreme? It should not be! It should be the norm, so that it not a select few who are carrying on the work, but the overwhelming majority who are all doing their share. I assure you that I am as broken as they come, but as God is putting back together the great mess that I created of my life, He is working. There is nothing extreme about that. Well, maybe it is. Maybe it is time for the Church as a whole get radically extreme, lest we will be considered an insignificant "side dish."