Drawn Close

It amazes me that I’m a YWAMer. I was NEVER going to do YWAM. But my father God has ways that are so much higher than my ways and when I begged him to use me, he took me seriously. So here I am, in the last weeks of lecture phase before my team leaves for a God-appointed outreach to Egypt and Israel (with an hour or five spent in Istanbul, Turkey).
The things I have learned! The revelations that God has given me about who he is and who I am in him, SO GOOD!
About a year ago, God met me as I listened to Raiya-a woman of God from Tajikistan- tell her goosebumps inducing story of Jesus. I wasn’t really hearing the voice of God at that point in my life but I felt this ‘Go talk to her’ nudge. I was so drawn to Raiya’s shameless adoration, her childlike faith in God. And when I went to talk to her, I felt so welcomed. Raiya was with YWAM and she told me about the Discipleship Training School that YWAM Coatesville would be running and encouraged me to fill out an application.
In late September, I moved to Coatesville. I was less than thirty minutes from my home, another confirmation from God that I was where he wanted me. I love to travel and if I were to have done a DTS without God, I would have gone anywhere but twenty-five minutes from home.
And God has been at work. He’s been tearing out the identity I had built for myself and replacing it with his identity for me. It’s painful but incredibly necessary. And God has loved and loved me so much throughout that I’ve been able to walk in trust that when he asks me to give him part of my ‘self-made woman’ that he will give me something better. Something from week one: God’s covenant is this, that everything I have is His and everything he has is mine. This is love, not that I loved him but that he loved and continues to love me.

Un titled…done…

you know there was a point a couple of months back where i thought that i would never again succomb to the madness or the sickness or the darkness. when i stood on top of that mountain that i climbed fully relying on god and on his strength alone, i honestly thought that i would be finished with the struggle to find peace and contentment in christ. i thought that finally there was one hurdle that i had overcome and now i could move on with my life. on to a better and brighter future. a new me.
and now i think that it is when we feel the safest that we are in the most danger. we relax our tenacious hold on the beautiful new relationship with our creator and the next thing that happens is we wake up and try to find a reason to get out of bed. we are hauntd by our mistakes. we begin to believe that that’s who we are and that we are not fooling anyone, not even ourselves.
but most sadly, and most importantly, we don’t feel good enough for god. all his promises? for people who haven’t screwed up. and i know i know they tell you in sunday school and in chapel after chapel that god’s a god of grace and that the people he used to exalt himself were screw ups.
but it’s one thing to know that in your head and quite another to believe it in your heart.
and you know you need to get back but the gulf is ever widening and somehow it just seems easier to put it off for another day. and another until the happiness you knew in that glowing sunset you KNEW was a gift from god meant especially for you… until that happiness is a fading glow on the distant horizon and you feel too incredibly weak to run to catch it again.
and you don’t know yet how it will end. you don’t want to pray that sinner’s prayer. if you go back to god you want it to be all out devotion and dedication. but you just ride the fence and in the meantime icy roads terrify you and you drive the speed limit.

The Ways of God

God says that his ways are higher than my ways. I know this. But until recently, that was all. I knew it but I had never before experienced it. I did not believe it. I have been learning alot of things. But one of the lessons that seems to be coming back over and over is the fact that it is futile and a bit stupid to plan my life. Because every time, God comes in with a new plan that turns everything I had planned upside down.

Until a couple of days ago, I had been stubbornly planning to go to college. It has been my dream since second grade (or whenever I found out what college is) and I cared little what I went for as long as I went. I thought God was blessing my dream when I got accepted to PCAD. Imagine my surprise when I found out that my student loan had not been approved and that that door had apparently closed.

To tell you the truth, I was not really surprised at all.

A couple of nights after my return from Italy, I had been reading an amazing book my brother Shane gave to me. It’s called The Irresistable Revolution by Shane Claiborne and it has more than shaken up my life. I had been reading it for a couple of hours and I was in that limbo between wakefulness and sleep, dreaming about all the mission trips and God-services I hoped to do when I was finished with college. Then I thought sadly about the years I wold spend paying back my student loans.

Suddenly, it was like someone spoke to me. The thought Do you really, really need to go to college?  flashed through my mind. Instantly, I was wide awake. My heart was racing. I knew it had been God. Right then and there, I begged God no to take my college dream away from me. But even as I prayed that prayer, I knew that it was useless. So I prayed that God would clarify his will be not allowing my student loan to go through. Sure enough.

Oddly, I am almost unnervingly at peace now. I had been horribly nervous about being a student at PCAD and I was stressed out. But after I got the phone call from my loan agency, cried, and screamed at God (don’t worry, I apologized), I realized that God’s dream for me did not include a college education and years of debt. And I felt immediately surrounded by his presence and peaceful than I had felt in weeks. And now that that door has closed (during my tirade at God, I called it slamming that door in my face), so many other doors now have potential to open.

Slowly as I learn more about God and his dreams that he has for every one of us, the more trusting I feel. It sounds a bit lazy, but there is nothing like standing back and waiting for God to open a door than to spend all my energy jumping against and trying to break down doors on my own.

With that said, I am going to share a random little fairy tale that just came to me.

Once upon a time, a little girl was walking in the garden with her daddy. They came to a wall that had dozens of doors opening into smaller gardens. The little girl looked with delight at her daddy and raced ahead of him. When she reached the first door, she found with some irritation that she could not reach the handle. So she leaned against the door with her shoulder and pushed with all her might, trying to enter the garden on her own. When her daddy caught up to her, she begged him to please open the door for her. He looked at her with love in his eyes and reached for the handle. He held his daughter back as he looked into the garden. He saw dead trees and pits full of snakes. His daughter tried to push past him to enter the garden so he slammed the door shut. She looked at him in anger and asked why he had closed the door. “Because I know that there is a garden more beautiful, my daughter.” She looked at him with a pout and ran to the next door. Again, she tried with all her might to open the door on her own. Again she begged him to open the door for her. Again, he looked at her with love in his eyes and reached for the latch. He held her back as he peeked inside and saw flames shooting up from the ground and gnarly, forbidding looking trees. As his daughter tried to push past him, he again slammed the door shut. This time, his daughter kicked at his ankles and beat hims with her little fists. She screamed why and he told her “Because I know there is a garden more beautiful, my daugter.” This happened over and over again. Always, after he slammed a door to protect her from unhappiness and pain, she fought him. Once, she even ran away and he had to go find her and bring her back to the wall of doors. Finally, she was exhausted from trying to open doors and from fighting him whenever he slammed a door shut in her face. She lifted her arms to him in surrender and said “Daddy, will you please take me to the garden that you know is more beautiful?” He looked at her with love in his eyes and lifted her into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her slowly past door after door. When he set her down in front of a door, she looked at him with complete trust in her eyes and waited patiently for him to open the door. He pushed it open and held her hand as the walked inside. The garden was beautiful. It was full of flowers and fruit trees and green grass. Adorable little bunnies hopped around her and turtle basked in the sun on rocks beside the little pond full of lily pads and goldfish. She looked around her in awe then ran to her daddy. He picked her up and swung her around and around. “Thank you daddy!” she cried. “This garden really is the most beautiful!”

THE END

Upon My Return Home

My summer mission trip to Italy could possibly be one of the most discouraging mission trips I have been on. Italy doesn’t really strike you as a really difficult place to do ministry-and it wasn’t-but all the emotional drama and trauma going on between ministry opportunities wore on me terribly. Without going into a lot of detail, suffice it to say that as a team, we did not feel welcome or that our ministry to kids was worth any huge amount of time. In addition to that, throw four single girls and a handful of single soldiers into close quarters and stand back and laugh. Yes, there was that problem too.

And, to be completely honest, I handled none of these things in a way befitting a beautiful woman of God. I complained, I developed attitudes of discontent, I hurt others with my words. I slowly, but surely, slipped further and further away from the beautiful relationship I had had with my God. But I think that the most difficult thing for me was that I did not feel that my prayer for the summer had been realized.

I had been praying that God would show me his glory and that he would show up in a very real and very powerful way. I wanted to know that God really and truly cared about me. And I was expecting something big. I was expecting a life-changing thing that when I looked back on my life I would be able to point to a moment and say That was it, that moment during a summer mission trip to Italy, God spoke to me and my life changed and took a whole new direction.

When I got back to debrief in Warrenton, I was still struggling with the fact that nothing huge or life-changing had occurred in Italy. In fact, I felt further away from God than I had felt in months. I felt as though the relationship damage that had been done would take months, years to repair. Just to get back to where I had been before the trip, let alone grow, seemed unfathomably difficult.

And then, I had a revelation. I suddenly realized that maybe I had been looking so hard for the BIG thing, that I missed all the small little affirmations of God’s love that he sent. This train of thought continued as I looked again at the life of Moses, from which I had drawn so much inspiration. God showed Moses his glory and Exodus also says over and over again that Moses was a friend of God. I started thinking about what characterizes a true friendship. It is not huge monumental gifts or enormously memorable moments. It’s little things. Small things that happen every day.

I started looking back at my trip and realized that, indeed, there were little tokens of God’s affection scattered throughout my trip to Italy.

The first one that I can remember occurred three or four days after I arrived in Italy. I had an envelope of money that I was to give to Dave Powell that would cover all the expenses of the trip. I misplaced it and thought nothing of it until one of the other team members told me that the envelope had had cash in it and not a check. I started casually looking for the envelope, then frantically. I had finally looked in every possible place. I was almost in tears when I walked into my bedroom where all the girls were sitting. I asked them if we could please pray. One other girl prayed first, then I prayed. Almost as soon as I said Amen, the other girl rolled off the bed and said she would look in one more place. She pulled the envelope out from behind the nightstand.

I had been very discouraged by the fact that none of the children at MOKIs had responded to the Bible stories and asked to be counseled for salvation. I was haunted by the fact the Chris had not come back to MOKIs. He was a little boy that had raised his hand and told me very seriously after I had presented the salvation message, that what I had said made his heart hurt. I had not had a chance to talk to him that day. I looked for him every day after that but I never saw him again. But because of Chris, I started watching the kids and if they looked like they had a question, I invited them to stay back and to talk to me about what they were thinking. I was able to lead five kids to Jesus!

Four days before my team left, our team leader and his daughter left for the states. He had been taking alot for us and he was worried that in his absence, my team would be attacked. But God had provided two soldiers with whom my team had built an incredible friendship, and in Dave’s absence, they stepped in and protected. In a time when we were most vulnerable and helpless, God provided a way of escape.

Those are the things that I can remember now. As I begin to remember smaller details of the trip, I know I will see more things that were gifts to me from God. It was a difficult trip but it was a good trip and an opportunity to experience God.

Italy-Part II

I find it quite disturbing that I have been in Italy for almost four weeks and I’ve only updated this blog twice. For those chosen few who read this, I sincerely apologize.

Who knew that four weeks could go by so quickly? When I arrived at the hospitality house here in Vicenza, Italy, the four weeks of ministry ahead of me looked long and I was really excited to see what God would do on this mission trip. Now it’s getting to the place where we are counting down the hours until we leave for the airport. We have made so many friends here and met so many incredible people that the idea of saying goodbye is terrifying. I would rather not.

The MOKIs (Moms Out, Kids In) were successful and it was awsome to be able to spend time with these kids who are so desperately in need of love and attention. There were those, of course, who were a special challenge but, to be completely honest, those usually ended up being my favorites. It was also an amazing blessing and a gift from God to be able to lead five children to Christ. To hear them say that they are now a child of God after they had prayed to accept the forgiveness Jesus offers because he died on the cross and rose from the dead, was the most incredible thing. I ecspecially liked the part where I explained that because I am a child of God and they are a child of God, that makes us brothers and sisters in Christ. (The tenses in that paragraph seriously bother me, but I have a two year old telling me about dinosaurs so I am just not going to worry about that. I apologize, English majors.)

In addition to the child evangelism in which my team and I have been involved, we have had, of course, many opportunites to travel around the north part of Italy and see all the places you are supposed to see when you visit Italy. We have been to Venice, Florence, Pisa, Verona, Vicenza, Siere Mione… etc? We had been hoping to go to Rome for the weekend but that didn’t happen and we spent the weekend in Germany and Austria instead (that was amazing!)

But I think one of the very best things about this trip has been the friendships we made with some of the soldiers here. They have been like big brothers and they have challenged me incredibly in my walk with Christ. There have been amazing conversations and inside jokes born and movie lines quoted with these guys and I’m going to miss them so so much. Here’s to Gary (my hero!) and Kev (rocks!) and all the others that are a very important brick in the hospitality house.

There were very many good memories made here and I am truly going to look back on my time in Italy and perhaps get a little homesick.

Italy-Part I

I have now been in Italy for just over a week. When we got off the plane in Venice, we were barely awake and my ankles were already swollen. We found our people right away and drove forty-five minutes to Vicenza. As we drove, we found out that for the next week we would be helping at the SETAF (South European Task Force) Chapel teaching Vacation Bible School. We had actually been prepared for that at training in Missouri but we were given no time to rest because they didn’t want us to sleep so we could kick our jet lag as soon as possible. So we sat through a VBS meeting, an evening church service, and a Hospitality House meeting while fighting sleep. They finally let us go to bed and we woke up early to go teach VBS at 8:30 in the morning.

Although these five early mornings seemed torturous, it was a blessing to work alongside people that the kids already knew and respected so that when we worked with the kids in MOKIs (Moms Out, Kids In), discipline would not be such a huge issue. It was also nice to see how much the kids actually knew about the Bible and to have something to reference and expand upon when teaching MOKIs.

We also had a lot of afternoons and days to go off and do touristy things. One afternoon, one of the girls that works in the school on the base took us to a castle/island/fortress ruins about forty-five minutes away. That was absolutely fabulous and since we are in the area where all the Murano glass is made and gold jewelry has been a huge export item for centuries, the shops were amazing.

An afternoon after VBS we went to an Italian villa that has been in the same family for generations. All the art in the villa was done by the father. It was all Greek mythology and truly Renaissance. The art in the guest house was done by the son and was paintings of every day life. It was fascinating to see how religion had changed the perception of art in the course of one generation. There was also a story about one of the daughters who had been a dwarf. Her father had dwarf statues made in her honor and they lined the courtyard walls. Rob (our host) had been planning to tell us the story but it must have slipped his mind.

On Saturday, we went to Venice (!) and took a water taxi to Rialto Bridge where we shopped for an hour then wandered over canals and around corners to St. Marks Square. We toured the cathedral, saw the original cast bronze horses stolen by Napolean and returned after WWII. We toured the Doge’s Palace and crossed the Bridge of Sighs. We contemplated a gondola ride but decided that the romantic image would be destroyed if six people went together.

We spent Sunday afternoon with six or seven soldiers at a park nearby. We were surrounded by the foothills of the Alps. It was gorgeous despite the hazy day. I had some time to sit by myself and catch up on my journal and watch Italians jump off of a bridge into the water. It was really a good time to be alone and prepare for the next week.

Yesterday we started MOKIs. MOKI stands for Moms Out, Kids In and it’s pretty much three hours that we have the kids and moms can get some things done that they can’t really do with kids. Most of their husbands have been deployed for about fifteen months and their kids are going crazy and they are stressed out so they really appreciate that we can do this for them. And we get to teach the kids about Jesus for three hours.

MOKI yesterday was a little unorganized but we got through it perfectly well. I taught the Bible story (Jesus forgives the sin of the paralyzed man) and the second time around I actually remembered to look at all the verses in the Bible. The second time I told the story, after I had given the invitation to accept the forgiveness of sins that Jesus offers, one of the little boys raised his hands and said, “Ma’am,” (they are all military kids but this one is so polite and always says sir and ma’am) “after what you said, my heart really is hurting me.” I wanted to talk to him some more but his dad came to pick him up early. So please pray that Team Italy would have more opportunities to really share Christ not only with this child, but with all the children that come to MOKIs.

To Italy

Right now, I have absolutely no idea what the reason could possibly be that God would suddenly take Iceland away and send me to Italy, a country I really haven’t been crazy to visit.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday I was numb. I can’t really remember much from those days except how completely weighed down I was with discouragement. On Friday night at CEF headquarters here in Warrenton, MO I was still a little spacey and disengaged. I honestly just wanted to drown in my misery and whine and say God, you have no idea what you’ve just done to me. I’m giving up and going home. But he sent me a friend. We hardly knew each other but she could see that I was down and needed some encouragement. She came alongside me and spoke words that she could not have known I needed into my heart. She prayed for me and hugged me and I really began to feel significantly better.

For the next several days, it seemed that everything that was said in chapel or in group times spoke directly to my struggle to accept Italy as my new destination. Over and over again the idea that God would take our expectations and turn them upside down and once we trusted him, he would work mightily were brought up. Again and again we were encouraged to trust trust trust God.

And now I’m there. I don’t know what God’s up to but I am there. I am fully engaged, looking forward eagerly to God working huge ways in my heart and in my life this summer. I am repreparing mentally for Italy and I am getting really excited to work with the kids there. God has never let go of me and he’s not about to now. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Change of Plans

I feel as though I am horribly behind. In just a few hours I will be leaving for the Baltimore airport and officially beginning my summer mission trip. I can hardly believe the time has already come! And I have updated rarely or not at all and I feel bad.

Saturday night, May 31,  I got back from an extremely intense personal development/BOB/ canoe trip in the Adirondacks in New York. I was beyond stretched physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I learned so many things about what it means to pursue God and to put others first. We were also committed to finding out what it truly means to be a woman when all the outward appearances of femininity are stripped away. It was an amazing trip and I learned so much about myself and had so many God moments and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Then on Sunday I had my commissioning service. It was fabulous and I love my church even more now. *big grins* The rest of the week was spent with my dear friends and family and getting ready for my trip to Iceland.

Then on Wednesday afternoon as I was helping my friend pack the last of her belongings in boxes before her wedding this weekend, I got a phone call from CEF informing me that the girl with whom I was going to Iceland had backed out of the trip because of a sudden death in the family. Because they do not like to send summer missionaries alone, Iceland has been cancelled. But since I am open to going to another country with another team, I have the option of going to either Italy or Uganda.

At first I was completely in shock. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I wouldn’t be going to Iceland. I was mentally prepared for Iceland, I was completely thrilled to be going there, I had my shopping done and now I wasn’t going. And I know that Italy and Uganda are fabulous choices but you have to understand that I had my heart set on Iceland so there were quite a few moments that I could have cried on Wednesday night.

But when I woke up on Thursday morning, I felt much better about the change of plans. I went shopping again and spent the day packing my bags and spending time with my friends. It’s unofficial, I haven’t yet heard from CEF, but if given a choice, I will probably choose Italy. If I go there this summer, I will be living at a US military base, working with the kids of the soldiers. The more time I have to think about it, the more excited I get.

I would, however, appreciate much prayer on my behalf. One of the things we learned about being a woman on the canoe trip is that beautiful women are adaptable. I feel like I’m really going to have to learn that in the next couple of weeks as all my plans are blown out of the water and I have to rework everything. And to be completely honest, I do not do well with change. So yes, please pray.

The Discovery of the Heart

At first, Peter was a Galilean fisherman. He probably smelled terrible, had matted hair and language that was anything but chivalrous. But when Jesus gathered a collection of men upon whom to build his church, he chose Peter. He saw something in this rough around the edges man that one would likely miss on first glance. He saw passion.

Peter was one of the most extremely blessed people in all of history. He walked, talked, ate, lived with the God of the universe during his ministry on earth. Every day, Peter was exposed to radical conversation and intense opportunities for discipleship. He witnessed miracles and later in his life, through the power of Christ in him, worked his own miracles. He learned firsthand what a true life of faith looks like.

Peter was also one of the most impossible disciples. He was always speaking without thinking and coming up with these brilliant but kind of stupid ideas. When Christ saw his passion, he knew that this was the kind of man he needed to continue his legacy in a time when the gospel would be hated and feared and illegal. In Peter, he saw fearlessness and the potential to love so fiercely that he would lay down his life for the object of his devotion. Jesus saw that the desire of Peter’s heart would become first priority in his life. He chose Peter to become one of the men to keep the truth alive in his absence because of his passion.

Likely the son and grandson of a fisherman, Peter probably thought his entire life would be devoted to the fishing industry. When he imagined his death, he probably envisioned old age on a hard bed. Or perhaps beaten to death by monstrous waves on the sea of Galilee. Maybe even death at the edge of a Roman sword, Peter the revolutionary. Never the possibility that he would be suspended upside down on one of the most popular instruments of Roman torture, the cross, and all because he preached peace.

But Jesus’ invitation to follow him changed everything. With the touch of Christ, Peter’s heart changed.

Fast forward past the crucifixion, Peter’s denial, and the resurrection to the few precious days the disciples shared with Christ before he ascended into heaven. By this time, they had come to accept that Jesus had not come to overthrow the Roman government, but the principality and power of darkness. Jesus shared with them last bits of wisdom and built their confidence as leaders before he left them to carry on without his physical presence. He encouraged them, but as they stood on that hill, straining for one last glimpse of the man who had permanently changed their worldviews, their stomachs were probably in knots, the task ahead of them more than daunting.

As Jesus disappeared into the clouds, Peter discovered his passion for Christ and his desire to tell everyone he met about him. Peter’s God-given heartbeat very quickly led him into situation after situation where he was disliked and his message loathed. He was persecuted and imprisoned because of the longing of his heart to see the kingdom of Christ expanded on the earth. He had discovered his heart and, like Jesus knew when he asked Peter to follow him, he was not going to allow anything to stop the pursuit of his heart’s desire.

The Pursuit of Dreams

One of the most common questions that adults ask young children is the What do you want to be when you grow up? question. Answers range from nurse and police officer to superhero and President. My high school English teacher wanted to be a firetruck. Later in life, the question changes slightly to the What are your plans for the future? question. College, career, travels, a family. Human beings dream. They love to talk about their deepest longings and hopes.

Dreams are what make us. Astronauts do not orbit the earth because they one day wake up and decide to shoot off into space. They pursue the dream of space-travel passionately. They study for years, they train intensely all the while envisioning that moment when they will peer out of a small window in the spacecraft and behold the planet Earth for themselves. They pour all their spirit into their dream job.

In the same way, most job discontentment is a result of settling for less than the dream (though the fact that one is pushing paper instead of playing pro basketball is hardly an excuse for poor performance). Movies get made all the time about people who finally break free and pursue their dreams passionately. Those movies inspire and make one entertain the possibility of doing the same.

Can you imagine then, what dreams could become if placed without reserve into the hands of the Creator of imagination? When touched by God, dreams become pure and unadulturated. They become glowing beacons of hope. They become the passion of a person living in the power of God. God-breathed dreams change ordinary people into saints.

Moses grew up watching his people suffer under the cruel slavery inflicted by his adoptive grandfather the Pharoah. God planted a dream in Moses to see his people set free. He fought the role God had planned for him to make the dream reality, but when he finally allowed the power of God to become the working part of his dream, the extraordinary occurred. God showed his glory again and again and Moses became the man to lead his people out of bondage and toward the freedom of the promised land.

Admittedly, God’s way of making dreams come true takes us out of our box. We may be anything but comfortable but he promises never to leave or forsake his children. Doubtless, Moses did not envision wandering around the wilderness and dealing with the complaints of the Israelites when the first inkling of desire to see the Hebrews set free flitted across his mind. Doubtless, Mother Theresa did not envision living among the stench and disease of the lowest caste in India when she decided to pursue her dream of serving others in the name of Jesus. Despite the hardships they faced when they gave their dreams up to the power of Christ, these two ordinary people walked very closely with God, their hand in his. They will be remembered for all time as true heroes of faith, common people who became intimate friends of God.

The inspiration for this post came from a conversation I had at breakfast yesterday with two dear friends of mine. One of them has been been fostering a dream for several years and has been actively pursuing and preparing for the dream to become a reality. At this point, however, she is unsure whether or not that will happen. But she did say that so many good things have come from her pursuit of this dream, that she will always be blessed by it. In her words, God sometimes uses a dream to “get the ball rolling,” to lead us on a path that will draw us into his dream for us. Although her dream may not come to pass exactly as she had scripted, she is aware of the absolute necessity to go with God’s script as she makes these difficult decisions.

Dreams that begin with longing for God take us deeper into his heart, and there we discover ours.