The House You're Building

It's a good exercise to remember my complete inability and unloveliness before the Able and Lovely. It's a better exercise to soak in His love and forget about myself.

"All my life you've been calling me to a home You know I've been needing...I'm a broken stone, so lay me in the house You're building..."



For while we were still weak,
at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.
- Romans 5:6

Better than Sons and Daughters

Last night I got to demonstrate my amazing auntie prowess and sit with my darling niece, Ivy, for a few hours. After her parents walked out the door I fed her, rocked her, and set her gently in her cradle for a nice little sleep...which lasted all of about twenty minutes before the other baby in the family, Mowgli the Dog, started barking his head off at the presence of an invisible intruder.


Needless to say I spent the rest of the time be-bopping around the Christmas tree with my not-quite-two month old niece mesmerized by the lights. I think she was less mesmerized, however, by my faulty renditions of several Christmas classics. "Have a holly jolly Christmas, it's the best time of the year, la la la, something, la..." was how it generally went. At the end of the two hours, I was happy to hand little Ivy off to her momma (mostly because it was feeding time), and her momma was happy to have her back. Yep, being an aunt is a pretty good gig.

This morning as I stood at the kitchen sink, pouring my coffee and shredded wheat (but not into the same container), I thought about how thankful I am that I'm not married. This probably sounds strange, because previous posts on this blog would indicate otherwise, but I really am most of the time thankful for the gift of singleness. I am becoming increasingly aware of the special gift that it is, and the advantages and disadvantages that come with it.

A week ago I had lunch with a group of people from my church and one friend and fellow single was talking about being a Isaiah 54 wife, that is, the Lord is your husband. Although I don't think there is anything wrong with a single woman, never-married or widowed, to cling to these verses for comfort, I've never been down with it myself, and in the last year or so, I've been enamored with a passage from Isaiah 56.

1 Thus says the LORD:
"Keep justice, and do righteousness,
for soon my salvation will come,
and my deliverance be revealed.
2 Blessed is the man who does this,
and the son of man who holds it fast,
who keeps the Sabbath, not profaning it,
and keeps his hand from doing any evil."
3 Let not the foreigner who has joined himself to the LORD say,
"The LORD will surely separate me from his people";
and let not the eunuch say,
"Behold, I am a dry tree."
4 For thus says the LORD:
"To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths,
who choose the things that please me
and hold fast my covenant,
5 I will give in my house and within my walls
a monument and a name
better than sons and daughters;
I will give them an everlasting name
that shall not be cut off.

This passage really comforted me when I was making the decision to go back into full-time missions service. I was struggling because it felt like the death of my dreams - husband, children, home - and the taking on of a dream I wasn't really sure I wanted. At that time I was 100% certain that if I choose the mission field, I would be choosing singleness as well.

I'm not really sure that's the case (I know it certainly isn't for all missionaries), but most days it feels like I will be single all of my life. I still struggle to be okay with that reality, especially now when I'm in my late twenties and everyone around me seems to be dating, getting married, married, or having babies. I want all those things too, but I am learning to be content with what God has called me to in this season of my life, and singleness is becoming less of an unspeakable horror, and more of an honor.

And really, whether we're married or single, it's our duty to "choose the things that please Me", to choose to please the Lord in whatever state we find ourselves. I just happen to find myself in the state of singleness. However, that eunuch thing really speaks to me. To be unable at this time in my life to have physical sons and daughters, it comforts me to know that I am called to care for and nurture spiritual life in other people's sons and daughters (as are other singles. I'm not that special). And if I continue in this state of singleness all of my life (which would be okay), I still have a place in God's house, and a name that He calls me, which is better than sons and daughters ("still". In my messed up economy this life is still more important than that Life. Sigh. I'm working on it).

Better than sons and daughters. That's hard to believe when you're holding a warm baby in your arms and kissing their chubby cheeks, or when your BFF is dating an awesome guy (which mine is at the moment), or when scads (literally scads) of people even younger than you are standing at the altar with goofy looks in their eyes. Faith is a daily struggle, but a worth-it fight. And as I press into knowing more of the goodness of God, that name is looking better and better.

Postscript: I'm really thankful for older singles who show me what faithfulness to God within the gift of singleness really looks like. They don't shrug off the struggles of singleness, but neither do they let those struggles defeat them. They take that gift and they work it. They let God use them to their full capacities and they serve Him. They are beautiful pictures of fun, and laughter, and service, and grace. Especially to this young single who is still getting used to the "gift" and wants to know how to use it well. So, thanks. You all are some of my favorite people around.

Counseling and Scarlett O'Hara

A few blog posts ago I told you that I am paying someone to fix me. I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, it is not. It is a long and arduous process which often leaves me emotionally drained and cranky.

Currently in my life I have the time and resources to do something that I've wanted to do for a long time, which is to get professional counseling. I'm sure you couldn't tell by my other blog posts, but I have a lot of issues.

The current issue that I'm working on is dealing with the fallout from abuse suffered in my past. The issues that I'm reaping from those painful seeds include a lot of anger and some destructive and unbiblical ways I deal with that pain and anger.

It's difficult to share these things with you. I wonder if it's better not to, but I know that what ministers most to me are honest struggles. But I'm trying to struggle well. I don't want to wallow in the pain, because I am being redeemed and I don't want to discount the Redeemer and His work in my life. But for so long I've avoided dealing with these issues and so right now I'm having trouble doing anything BUT wallowing.

Counseling brings up so many things that you didn't even know were there. And for me, the very existence of those "unknowns", throw me into a panic. I think I'm pretty "self-aware" (but maybe just self-centered), and to discover all of these issues I didn't even know I had is, in a word, depressing. I am so much worse than I thought I was! Oh, the ugly self-righteousness.

I have a lot more to say about this. I want to defend myself so you don't think I've swallowed the pill of popular psychology and am presently going to start screaming about how I just need to learn how to love myself and then everything will be alright. But no. No, right now you just need to know that I am a messed-up sinner, trying to forgive other messed-up sinners (which is a task that seems at this point in my life, simply unachievable), without losing sight of God, responding in an unbiblical way to the hurt, or hindering the ministry to which God has called me.

These are good, hard days for me. I'm so glad I can talk through all of these issues with someone who is helping me to deal with them in a godly way and see myself the way God sees me. I'm thankful for God's Word which speaks truth into my life and helps me to crush the lies. I'm thankful for grace, and the work of Christ that makes that grace possible. And lastly, I am thankful that God justifies the ungodly. That is a truth that I've been clinging to lately. Because I am, but He does.

I'm sure there will be many other blog posts on this issue, and maybe through them God will even minister to someone. I can only hope. But in the end, it's not about me. I'm learning that in this counseling process, and believe me, it is often a rude awakening. So, will you pray for me? Pray that I grieve well. Pray that I heal well. Pray that I forgive well. And when I saw "well" I mean in a way that brings glory to Christ, because all of these things are hard. Hard.

So, there you have it, the promised blog post. Next, I think I'm supposed to tell you more about my glamorous missionary life. So much glamour, where to even begin? Well, in the words of that paragon of mental health, Scarlett O'Hara (I bet you were wondering when she was finally going to figure into this post), "I won't think about that now, I'll think about that tomorrow".

Dude...

So I just looked over the list of blog topics I promised to share with you and I saw that one of them was the story of my abscessed molar.

Dude, that is so gross. What was I thinking?

But seriously, that tooth took me out for about ten days. I had to take my Christmas vacation days since I did nothing for a whole week but cry and take crazy strong pain medicine which did nothing to alleviate the pain, and so not only was my tooth killing me, my liver was probably in danger as well. It was so bad that I only got about one and a half hours of sleep each night. No fun. No fun at all.

One night I remember looking at my tear-stained face in the mirror and thinking "I hope I am never tortured for my faith" because I don't know how I'd respond, but judging by my tooth mishap, it would not be good.

Isn't the Lord merciful to uphold His children? I trust that if that situation every arises in my life, His grace will keep me faithful to the end, but it's scary to realize how weak the flesh really is.

Dude, it is so gross. The Flesh, I mean. Well, and my tooth too. Still really gross.

I don't have great pain management skills. I hate pain. I avoid it at all cost, and when it does come I usually do not handle it well. I remember one time my sister (the one who gave birth to a 9lb 15oz baby), spilled hot eyebrow wax on her thigh (where it promptly adhered to her flesh and wouldn't come off), and had to be driven to the emergency room by her big sister (me), where she went through an entire skin peeling procedure (it's as bad as it sounds) AWAKE! She has some crazy pain management skills (and also a crazy tolerance for pain medication because that doctor tried his best to knock her out, believe me. But that's another story).

Not me, man, not me. Give me the pain meds, and if that doesn't work, just go ahead and take a 2x4 to my head because I don't want to experience it.

I was going somewhere with this...

Oh yeah, I don't like pain. So why must I deal with it at all? The answer, of course, is that I live in a fallen world. I am a messed-up sinner, interacting with other messed-up sinners, all of us doing messed-up sinner things. That's why, when my tooth finally came out, when the problem was gone, and the pain stopped, I felt relieved, and free, and happy. Really, really happy.

Every day I deal with pain of some sort, maybe not that blasted tooth pain, and maybe not to that extreme, but pain nonetheless. And every day I feel some of that pain being deepened, and some of that pain being healed, but one day I will feel all of that pain gone, and every tear wiped away.

"Life is not a straight line leading from one blessing to the next and then finally to heaven. Life is a winding and troubled road. Switchback after switchback. And...God is for us in all these strange turns. God is not just showing up after the trouble and cleaning it up. He is plotting the course and managing the troubles with far-reaching purposes for our good and for the glory of Jesus Christ." — John Piper

Good stuff in the midst of the gross stuff.

Dude, you know it's true, and aren't you glad? Me too.

Baby Ivy

Well, obviously I do not have a true blogger's heart because I've totally left you all out in the cold, as far as updating regularly goes. But perhaps the unexpectedness of my blog posts are what really keep you coming back for more anyway.

I'm feeling a little retrospective tonight, a little melancholy, and I'm tempted to write a rambling post all about my feelings. How horrifying is that prospect? But before you move onto a more interesting, less angst-filled blog, let me assure that that is not going to happen, at least not tonight. Tonight I've decided to introduce you to one of my new favorite people, Ivy.

Ive is my niece, and she made her debut six weeks ago tomorrow. Her birth was a much anticipated, much lauded event. We were at the hospital almost twenty-four hours waiting for her to arrive and it was worth every boring waiting room minute.

At seven on Sunday morning we were awakened by a phone call that alerted us to the emanate arrival and so the mom and littlest sister, Maggie, went with Jessie and Rich to the hospital, and Sarah and I followed a few hours later loaded down with reinforcements in the form of breakfast sandwiches and coffee (Starbucks, obviously).

We spent all day waiting around for Ivy and then as the sun set and other families vacated the waiting room we began the really long wait, the wait until dawn. It was rough. I vaguely remember a trip to a 24-Hour McDonald's for chicken nuggets and fries since we were all starving by the wee hours of the morning. After food we were sleepy.



But we did not sleep because we were too busy watching this door for Grandma (or Mamie as she is currently being referred to) to bust through and tell us that Ivy was finally here.



But no such luck and so about 3am things really started to get interesting. After various rides on the elevator, a trip to the nursery to see all the babies, and exhausting all the reading material to be had in the waiting room, we got creative. We plugged in our various iPods and MP3 players and got our dance on.

Public dancing? No problem for the Hulme clan, we are well-versed in public spectacle, believe me. So, we danced.



And laughed.



And watched for the nurses so they didn't catch us...and then danced some more.



Finally a few hours later Mamie did bust through those doors and we gathered around her camera to see pictures of newborn Ivy. And then a little while later we got to actually meet her in person.



I've never been more proud of my sister in my life. Birth is an amazing, painful process, and as the British would say, she was a real brick. My brother-in-law was also fantastic, even standing up to a not-so-nice doctor in the final stages of labor. Well done both of you.

This is Ivy today.



Fantastic, right (mad props to my friend Melanie Andrich for taking the above photograph. Love it!)? She is a bundle of kissable cheeks and big sometimes blue, sometimes green eyes. It is a pleasure to hold her and pray for her and love her. I am thankful for this good gift to my family, and can't wait for all those "firsts" that come along with the first grand baby, and of course, that ultimate first, when she meets Jesus as her Savior. I've been praying for that day since before she was born and I will continue to pray that our good God will one day answer that prayer and draw her to Himself. Amazing love, how can it be?

Auntie Jeanne loves you, Ivy.

Well, so a bit of a tear-jerker, right? Ah yes, the best of both worlds. And, of course, that's why you read my blog anyway... :)

Of Leaf Piles and Janitors

People are goofy.

Let's face it: we come up with some pretty crazy ideas. And those crazy ideas, spurred on by our inability to be completely neutral when it comes to ourselves, can lead to hilarious results.

Case in point: an indoor pile of leaves. A big, smelly, possibly bug-infested pile of leaves in an elementary school gymnasium.

Here's how it went down.

While here in St. Louis I'm helping out at a local Good News Club (one of CEF's primary ministries and the area in which I am most involved in Little Rock). I do this because I love the ministry and I need to step out of my deputation role every now and again so I don't go insane. Also, it is good entertainment.

This week was our Thanksgiving Party Club and our club leaders had some fun cooked up for the kids. During the last half an hour of club, after the lessons, and songs, and snacks had all been experienced, one of the club helpers carries in a big brown tarp. The children were told not to look at what he was doing behind them as it was their last big surprise for the day.

It was a big surprise for me too.

Being the Helpful Henrietta that I always am, I tramp over to assist. We spread the brown tarp and then the club helper disappears to his car for the other half of the mysterious prize. He returns a few minutes later carrying three huge (HUGE!) black garbage bags. He begins to rip them open and spread their contents around. In a minute, the middle of the gym looked like this:

A big pile of leaves in the middle of a school gymnasium. I watch in horror as this takes place. I'm so numb that I don't even realize I have ripped open a bag and dumped it's contents out as well, contributing to this nightmare.

At this point, I am unsure of the game we're going to play. Are the kids going to jump in this huge pile of leaves and roll around, scattering the leaves to the far corners of the gym? If this happens, I think, the janitor will have a conniption. And as if on cue, the janitor walks through. He stops, visibly startled. He stares, visibly shaken. Now, I've worked in public schools for many years and I know how persnickety the janitors can be about their floors. And why shouldn't they be? They spend their whole day cleaning up after small children and at the end of the day, they just want a few brief shining moments of spotlessness. Is that too much to ask?

Bottom line: you don't get on the bad side of janitors. They can make or break you in that school. Am I being paranoid? No, not at all. The janitor is a little kingdom unto him or herself so you want to keep him happy. Christmas gifts, Easter bonnets, fruit baskets are all things that can be used to appease a janitor. I've tried operating solely on the basis of my charming wit, but no, that janitor needs a gift certificate to Outback Steakhouse every now and again. Never underestimate the power of a well-placed (or played) Blooming Onion.

So I keep a close eye on this janitor, inwardly ringing my hands. What's going to happen next, I think. But the janitor plays it cool and rolls on by. For now. But he is watching. Oh yes, he is watching.


Do you see him there in the doorway? He watched us the whole time. Suspicious unto the point of gathering his other janitor buddies for a good beat down. But as he found out a few anxious moments later (for him and for me) that would prove to be completely unnecessary.

Again, I found myself an unwitting participant in The Great Leaf Debacle of 2010 as I begin to hid toys throughout this giant pile of leaves. Then the kids descended upon it with great vigor to find their treasures.


I have to admit, although I would never have attempted, let alone thought of this idea, the kids loved it, and they even stuck around for the clean up, which might have actually been the real fun, as is so often the case.

So would I, as a ministry coordinator of Good News Clubs, recommend recreating a yard in the middle of a school gymnasium to my teachers back in Little Rock? Probably not. But no harm, no foul. It was a pure, unadulterated case of a goofy idea turning out brilliantly, and at the end of the day, I was glad to be apart of it.

Especially since the janitor doesn't know where I live.

Your wait it almost over...

I realize that going a month without a blog post is ridiculous and that I've broken all the blogging rules and now all my "followers" have completely abandoned me for greener blogs (so to speak), but I'm worth the wait. Seriously, I've got some good stuff coming your way. My life has been really juicy during this last month of blog silence.

Here are some of the topics you've got to look forward to in the coming days:

* A new BABY (not mine, but still news-worthy)

* I finally lost it so now I'm paying someone to fix me (I know, right?!)

* The story of my abscessed MOLAR (what other blog has that topic going?)

* An indoor leaf pile (with pictures and EVERYTHING!)

* More details of my thrill-a-minute missionary life

Intrigued?

Curiosity piqued?

Dying to know more?

Well, your wait is almost over.

A Good Place to Be

Last night I took a foray into a local Christian bookstore, and although my head is still reeling from that experience (so much heresy, so little time), I did come out a little richer with a book by Spurgeon called "All of Grace".

Lately I've been having trouble with my affections. They have all been scattered and set upon the wrong things. I laid in bed last night thinking and praying and pondering this restlessness in myself for Something More. As I wrestled the thought "silly girl, you want Someone to worship" popped into my mind.

And indeed the desire in my heart to love and be loved in return, the restlessness I've been feeling lately, can only be fully satisfied by Christ. The forward to Spurgeon's book contains a quote from Archibald Brown, a "disciple" of Spurgeon and a fellow minister, which reveals where Spurgeon's affections were fully and finally set:

"In his heart, Jesus stood unapproached, unrivaled.
He worshipped Him; he adored Him.
He was our Lord's delighted captive."

This description of Spurgeon fills me with a desire for the same, that unapproached, unrivaled love for Jesus. To be a delighted captive would be riches indeed. I am prone to rattle off a list of ways that I have failed in this task of loving Jesus like I should, but lately I've been convicted about the fact that I hardly ever thank God for the multiple ways He is working in my life, the grace He shows me everyday.

Earlier today I heard a preacher remark that we as Christ-followers are not called to spread a message of morality, but the message of Christ Himself. I am called to proclaim a Person, not a program. I am called by grace to respond to God through Christ, to live before His face and not under my own list of "right" behaviors. I struggle with the tension of living by grace while still walking in holiness all the time. I don't think I'll ever fully get the hang of it, but I want my affections to be stirred by Christ, and Him alone.

I'm thanking God for the ways that He has led me thus far, and trusting in His grace to lead me in the future, and resting in His love tonight.

It's a good place to be.

I Need You

Love this song by The Swift. It is perfect for a weary Thursday afternoon.



Lyrics!

My heart is restless in me
My wings are all worn out
I'm walking in the wilderness
And I cannot get out

I need You, oh I need You
Blessed Savior come
I need You, oh I need You
Fill the every longing of my soul

Oh how I need You, Lord
I need Your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The sin that I afford
I need to weep and pray
For all the thousand ways
That I have failed You just today

And my bed is soaked with sadness
My sadness has no end
A downward spiral of despair
That I keep falling in

I need You, oh I need You
To You my soul shall fly
I need You, oh I need You
Yahweh, how I love you more than life

Oh how I need You, Lord
I need Your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The sin that I afford
I need to weep and pray
For all the thousand ways
That I have failed You just today

Your silence is like death to me
So won't You hear my desperate plea?

Today my soul is soaring
Way over mountains high
Though I can see the valleys
They are all just passing by
Its not that I am stronger
Look at my feeble wings
But I've been lifted higher
Yahweh's lifted me in His own strength

Oh how I love You Lord
I love your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The God who always will endure
Now I will celebrate
For all the thousand ways
That you have shown me grace

And made my heart in grace to stay
You made my heart in grace to stay
Lord, make my heart in grace to stay

I need You, oh I need You

The Magnet Family

As I'm adjusting to being back at home for the next few months I have the distinct feeling that I am somehow magnetized. Why? Because everywhere I go there they are. And by they I mean those delightful people I call my siblings. They are literally everywhere I go - asking me to take them somewhere, playing the guitar, chasing the cat, chasing the dogs, yelling at each other (we are in some serious need of sanctification around here), and opening and closing the refrigerator door which is annoyingly close to my "office".

Which brings me to the point that since my makeshift office has been dominating the kitchen table these past few weeks I thought that today I'd take the party downstairs. I set everything up on a card table, plugged in my laptop, and got out a pen. It was great for the first hour. By the second they were there again, as if a giant magnet that none of us could see was pulling us closer. Then it was me, sitting at the card table, surrounded by two brothers who were fighting, one who was playing a YouTube video at top volume, and a sister who was talking about Justin Bieber. Again. I think these kids need to go to public school.


Just kidding! Maybe private school. But seriously, I wouldn't trade my magnet family for anything.

Make-shift

I've entered into another time of transition in my life. The transition into, if not full-time ministry, than fuller-time ministry. Confused? Me too. Actually, it's not that hard to understand, just a little hard to explain. My year with IMPACT has ended and now that God has led me to stay with CEF indefinitely (gulp!) I'll be raising full-time support for my full-time ministry with CEF in Little Rock.

I don't usually love times of change or transition, but this time is a little more enjoyable since the transition will take place "back home" in St. Louis. As I take a break from one aspect of the ministry to focus on another, I'm thankful that I get to spend it among my strongest support base here in Missouri.

Here is my make-shift office during this make-shift time in my life. My mother is so tolerant as I take over her kitchen table (and a little more) this fall.


I'm not sure how long I'll be here in St. Louis. I guess it depends on how long it takes to raise my support. I'm thinking at least until November. This is both positive and negative. On the downside, I miss my church family in Arkansas and I miss being apart of what God is doing among them right now, AND, although there is still CEF ministry going on in Little Rock, there is no new ministry being developed.

On the upside, I get to see the last few weeks of my little sister's pregnancy and will be here when my niece finally makes her debut. Another upside is the chance to share life with my family for another little while. Making dinner for my younger siblings, taking them on field trips, and hanging out with them are all highlights of this time of transition for me. Support raising can be stressful, and it's nice to be able to turn to my brothers and laugh and joke around with them when the stress level gets to be too high (they can also be a little distracting. I think I've developed adult ADD - I never used to be this antsy!). It's also nice to hang out with my church family here and even be involved in some ministry.

So, make-shift though it is, I'm digging this new providence of God in my life. Now if only I could get Joseph to be a little less crazy... :)

Penelope Judd

I love this song/parable by Shai Linne. It's a children's song, but it stirs my heart with greater affection for Christ. I particularly like the portrayal of the Holy Spirit's work in the lives of believers. It does have some unfortunate grammar (thanks for that phrase, Karen), but I can forgive that, can't you? Download it post-haste, or better yet, buy the album "Storiez" and enjoy all the great songs.

Penelope Judd

Once upon a time in a distant land

Far beyond the sea where there lived no man

Or woman- in fact, lo and behold

The oldest person there was only 12 years old

Because all the grown-ups had washed away in a flood

One town in particular there was called Mud

Because every sister, cousin and brother

From head to toe in mud they were covered

But anyway, in this town called Mud

There lived a little girl named Penelope Judd

Now Penelope was a very sad, sad girl

Because she was living in a bad, bad world

Where kid teased each other and acted really mean

They lied, cheated and stole and their speech was obscene

With no grown-ups around, nobody was really wise

So every kid did what was right in their own eyes

Penelope would cry- like every single day

No matter what she did, the tears wouldn’t go away

But deep down in her heart, she hoped it would get better

Because of what her grandpa had written in a letter

He said, “Penelope, it’s great news that I bring

On the mountain top there lives a great King

The King has a Son, and being a proud Father

He’s going to throw the Prince a huge party in His honor

But the good part: and I hope it gets you excited

Penelope Judd, you’re officially invited!

He’s sending a Dove- He’ll tell you all you need to know

Just have your bags packed and be ready to go”

It had been such a long time Penelope was waiting

She wondered if the letter was true or just faking

But one day she was playing outside

And to her great surprise, the Dove had arrived!

He said:

Off we go with no delay

Don’t let nobody try to make you stay

We’re gonna see the King, we're on our way

And all the old things gon’ pass away

The Dove told her that He was sent by the King

If she wanted to go, she had to run and grab her things

Penelope said, “OK. I’ll be right back!”

Ran into the house and came back out with her knapsack

The Dove said, “Penelope, the party is in a day

Stay alert, follow me and I’ll lead the way”

So as He flew and Penelope walked the path

She waived good-bye to her friends and they started to laugh

They said that she was silly for following the Dove

Just to go to some stupid party up above

Penelope and the Dove continued on their way

But then she got sad, because part of her wanted to stay

But then she thought to herself, “Why would I want to stay?

Because all they do is play in the mud all day

And while they’re doing that, I’m gonna see the King!”

It made Penelope so happy, she started to sing

She said

Off I go with no delay

And ain’t nobody gonna make me stay

I’m gonna see the King- I’m on my way

And all the old things gon’ pass away

Now when they had been walking for a long time

They reached the foot of the mountain and they started to climb

Penelope got scared, not sure if she could keep

going because the mountain was very, very steep

On top of that, it was now dark outside

The Dove said, “Keep your eyes on me- I’ll be your guide”

Getting to the top was a difficult trip

But the Dove was there to pick her up whenever she slipped

And she was so excited when they got near the top

that she didn’t even stop when her knapsack dropped

The Dove led her to the Palace and said, “Farewell!

See you inside!” He flew away; Penelope rang the bell

A huge angel answered, looked her up and down

She knew something was wrong because he had a big frown

“Can I help you, ma’am?” “Yes, I’m here for the party

I have an invitation” He said, “I’m so sorry!

There’s no way that I can let you through these doors

The King won’t let anyone dirty up His floors”

She didn’t understand, so without coming near her

He reached into his pocket and He pulled out a mirror

And for the very first time, she saw that she was dirty

The Palace was spotless- she knew she was unworthy

As the angel continued, “I’m sorry, little friend

but…”A voice inside the party said, “You can let her in”

The next thing she knew, the Prince Himself was at the door

He looked at her, smiled and said, “There’s room for one more”

He reached out and touched her- instantly she was clean

Wearing the brightest robe that she had ever seen

If the Mud kids had seen it, they would have gone blind

“Where’d you get it?”, she asked, He said, “Actually, it’s mine”

And as He lead her in through the Palace doors

He sang the sweetest song she ever heard before

He said:

Long ago, laid aside my crown

Became a Mud kid, traveled to your town

They kicked me out, didn’t want me around

But those who love me get to share my crown

Staying the Course

I'm back "home" (where is home for a missionary?) after Missionary Candidate School, and as the saying goes, now comes the hard part.

But I feel sort of adrift, coming back to reality after dwelling for a few weeks in the world that is CEF IHQ. I love that place. It's a sort of home where people I love and admire come and go, work and rest, laugh and cry. We are truly a Fellowship.

This morning the VP of International Ministries painted a picture for us of the work around the world for us. It sort of devastated me. I wanted to run to my room and cry for a bit, but instead I went to lunch and cried there (on a side note: is there no place I won't cry? Answer: no, not a one).

As he was speaking (which is a treat to me for several reasons, not the least of which is his lovely Irish accent) he commented on a worker in Africa whose work among the people "shows the value of a life dedicated to ministry". That statement sort of blew me away and left me numb. The value of a life dedicated to God working out through ministry (whatever that "ministry" looks like in your life). What could be scarier, higher, or lovelier?

God continues to remind me of His faithfulness and of how beautifully He leads me through all the twists and turns of life. Now I'm impressed by the need to stay the course in the ministry He has called me to and for which He has gifted me. He has a call on my life which I have often fought against and tried to thwart, but it remains. I'm still in awe of it and often wrestle with the consequences of it, but I also love it. There is a lot of peace that comes by walking in His purposes, even when the hard times come.

So, now I'm done with a little bit of my journey. But I keep on walking. Soli Deo gloria.

"Keep Eating that Cheese"

I am here.

Where is "here"? CEF International Headquarters. This is my first full day of Candidate School (where they teach us about the important ministry of support raising) and I am exhausted. However, I had to share this story.

Today we candidates were treated to a tour of IHQ. We stopped to gaze out at the relatively new Kraft Prayer Garden. It's a beautiful spot where we gather to pray for the states and the ministry taking place in each (we have a front garden for international ministry, in case you were wondering).

We have many buildings and rooms and gardens here with namesakes and there is always an interesting story behind each. Our tour guide, who also doubles as my ministry coach, pointed out the window and explained "this is the Kraft Prayer Garden. As in Kraft Foods." We all exclaimed over this fact, and my delightful ministry coach said with a straight face "that's right. So, keep eating that cheese."

Words to live by.

It's Almost Autumn

It's a beautiful day in Little Rock. Huge puffy clouds in a brilliant blue sky. This morning as I got into my car, a gentle breeze blew across me face, and I thought "this is an almost autumn-like day". As I pulled out of the driveway, the local NPR station stated that the temperature was 85 degrees. You know it's been a hot summer when 85 degrees feels "autumn-like".

I am really ready for a different season though. I leave for a month-long "furlough" (although it's not really that at all) next Thursday. I'll be in the blessed state of Missouri for a whole month. It's not that I don't like Arkansas, because I do, but it's just not home.

This summer has been a struggle. I've never really doubted God's call to be here, I just wish it wasn't so difficult. Lately, I've been struggling with my singleness, loneliness, and discouragement and disappointment with certain aspects of my life on the mission field.

I talked all this over with God last night. God is pretty awesome, I'm not going to lie. My regular scripture reading for yesterday was in Hebrews 12 and earlier during the day as I was crying and praying and crying out to God, the Holy Spirit brought the verse from John 12:24 to mind. Now I know this speaks of Christ, but I think it applies to us as well. When God calls us, He bids us come die. Life from death - the conundrum of our life in Christ.

Lately my mind has been dwelling on certain good gifts that I see others enjoying that I as of yet have not had the privilege of partaking in. Am I jealous? I don't know. Maybe. Satan likes to take these longings and twist them until they are all out of proportion, until good gifts become ultimate gifts. I am a fairly reasonable person, with a pretty sound theological basis for life (and so humble too), so I know all the right answers to tell my heart when it gets unruly. However, knowing the right answers doesn't always satisfy my longings or stop my heart from getting hurt.

Last night I realized, not for the first time, that I have a lot of expectations for my life. My life doesn't look like what I was expecting, fyi. So I begin to question and doubt the presence of God's goodness in my life, and sometimes wonder if I took a wrong turn somewhere. There are those who say "if God put the desire in your heart, He will fulfill it", and I am sure there is some truth there, but I don't think it's true across the board. And I'm not sure it's true in my case, either. I struggle with it, I want to fight against it, but I need to keep reminding myself of the truth.

Someday I may look back at this time in my life and view it as a blessing. But today is not that day. Today it's a struggle to keep reminding myself of God's goodness and wisdom in giving me the gifts (yes, gifts) that He has thus far. I know He has good things planned. I know that no circumstance or situation in life is meant to give us ultimate fulfillment. Only God can do that, and only in heaven can we enjoy Him fully, as we were meant to. I am looking forward to that perfect fulfillment. And I am thankful that when I am a discouraged, and even a little bit annoyed, God is patient and pities me in my weakness. Bends, as it were, to relieve me and remind me that "in His presence is fullness of joy. At His right hand are pleasures forever more." I am working on being thankful for every good and difficult gift God gives me, because they only serve to bring me "higher up and deeper in", to make me fit to one day enjoy God as I was meant.

I feel like I've been a one-note song this year. I feel as though all of my blog posts have centered around me trying to come to terms with where I find myself in the will of God and life. Shouldn't I have moved on? Maybe, but I just haven't gotten over the need to be reminded of God's sovereign, mysterious workings in my life yet. However, I feel as though I should apologize to the two people who ever read this blog for being so boring. But, these are my struggles, and maybe I have needed this year to just struggle with these things and allow God to answer me again and again with His truth. Who knows? God is good, and I'm going to enjoy the blessings of this beautiful day in a life I did not expect.

It's almost autumn.

Stephen King

I never thought I'd write a blog post entitled "Stephen King".

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Awesome.

Keeping My Mouth Shut

I've always had a hard time keeping my mouth shut.

And I've always really admired people who could do it, and who were merciful, since they possess qualities that I'm afraid I'll never quite master. Apparently, people don't like to be told they're full of crap.

Who knew?

However, some of those "merciful" people need a backbone. And I am happy to step in and be that for them until they finally grow one of their own. When I see people I care about being treated badly, or worse, allowing other people to treat them badly, something snaps in my head. I want them to know it's not okay to be treated badly. It's okay to call sin sin. Argh! Suddenly, I get the urge to listen to Eminem.

But I digress.

It's a delicate balance though, isn't it? Can you "love" someone to death? When is it just casting your pearls before swine? This is hard. All those Bible verse about being merciful and forgiving run through my mind. However, "forgiveness" is not a synonym for "stupid". I think we can enable the other person to continue to destroy themselves if we don't allow them to experience the consequences of their behavior. Our mercy is actually a cruelty of the worse kind.

I need wisdom. I don't want to quit before it's time. But I know I'll never give up, since I'm not depending on the other person to turn the situation around, but God, for which all things are possible. Today I thought that maybe God is allowing them to go so low, so low, that when He steps in redemption will be so amazing, so sweet, so winsome, that it will blow us all away. It will be a megaphone to shout His glory. I could use that kind of encouragement. It seems so impossible sometimes, but I don't think it's over. I think God has plans far better than I do, or can even imagine. So I'm trusting His goodness (so easy to forget when life gets overwhelming!), and believing that the best is yet to be.

I've always had a hard time keeping my mouth shut, but Lord willing, more often than not it was, and will be, because I was standing up for Something.

Hard Things

So here's what God has been teaching me lately...

I've been really convicted about all the ways I silence God's voice. God says hard things to me. They are good things, but they are hard. These things call me to change, to turn around, to repent, but they ultimately lead to my joy.

Now the word of the LORD came to Jonah the son of Amittai, saying, "Arise, go to Nineveh, that great city, and call out against it, for their evil has come up before me." But Jonah rose to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the LORD. He went down to Joppa and found a ship going to Tarshish. So he paid the fare and went on board, to go with them to Tarshish, away from the presence of the LORD. - Jonah 1:1-3

What ways do you "flee from the presence of the Lord"? Mine are many and varied and sneaky. My heart justifies me A LOT in my sin.

I wonder why I go to such great lengths to block out God's voice? Like a little child that runs away from a scolding. It's probably because in my heart I don't really want to change, perhaps it's because the truth of God's goodness, and righteousness, and love hasn't sunk in as deeply as it should. His way leads to everlasting joy, mine leads only to death.

Anyway, like Jonah I run away from hard things. But there is no need to do that. God does tell us hard things, but it is for our lasting joy and ultimate happiness. It takes courage to continue to come to God when He calls, however, it is so worth it!

I Miss...

I miss this...

...and this...

...and this and this...

...and this...

...and this...

...and this...

...and this...

...and yes, even this.

I am missing them all so, so much today! I can't wait to see them (and a few others) in a few weeks. God has given me such a tremendous gift in the shape of these nine people.

Quote

"In all these other matters what you call obeying Him is but doing what seems good in your own eyes also. Is love content with that? You do them, indeed, because they are His will, but not only because they are His will. Where can you taste the joy of obeying unless He bids you do something for which His bidding is the only reason?"

- C.S Lewis, from Perelandra

The Older Brother

I'm teaching the parable of the Prodigal Son in 5-Day Club today. I love to study and teach this beautiful story and it seems each time I go back to it, God impresses a new truth on my heart.

Today reading through the story I approached the end and came to the bit about the older brother. Why does this wonderful story of redemption end on such a bitter note? Verse 29 and 30 hit me hard as I read:

"So he answered and said to his father, "Lo, these many years I have been serving you; I have never transgressed your commandment at any time; and yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might make merry with my friends. But as soon as this son of yours came, who has devoured your livelihood with harlots, you killed the fatted calf for him."

"Who has devoured your livelihood with harlots" - yeah, that's me. I have wasted God's good gifts on my own ends. My hands have shaped idols. But I am also the older brother. "I have never transgressed your commandment at any time" - I try to earn the forgiveness and love of God by my works, as if they are anything but filthy rags. Why this flurry of activity, when God calls me to rest?

What gets me about this story is that the older and younger brother both wanted their father's things, but tried to achieve them in different ways. Was there any real love for the father in the older brother's heart, even though he stayed? I don't think so, and that scares me. I am more likely to be the older brother in this story, than the younger. Trying so desperately to earn God's favor by my works, instead of looking to the finished work of Christ.

I am clothed in His righteousness, but I still try to pull on those filthy rags. Enough striving, it only produces frustration. Instead, let me fall on the grace that is in Christ Jesus and rest, "dressed in His righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne".

Sunday Hymn

I love this hymn. I sing it when I need to remember that "whoever believe in him is not condemned..." (John 3:18a). I sing it when I am sore from sin and in need of the grace that is found only in Jesus. I sing it when I need to praise the God of all mercy and my own words fail.

I love this version by Caedmon's Call.



Thy Mercy, My God

Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song,
The joy of my heart. and the boast of my tongue;
Thy free grace alone, from the first to the last,
Hath won my affections, and bound my soul fast.

Without Thy sweet mercy I could not live here;
Sin would reduce me to utter despair;
But, through Thy free goodness, my spirits revive,
And He that first made me still keeps me alive.

Thy mercy is more than a match for my heart,
Which wonders to feel its own hardness depart;
Dissolved by Thy goodness, I fall to the ground,
And weep to the praise of the mercy I’ve found.

Great Father of mercies, Thy goodness I own,
And the covenant love of Thy crucified Son;
All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.

All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.

Words: John Stocker
Music: Sandra McCracken

©2001 Same Old Dress Music (ASCAP).

An Easy Yes

I just had all of my plans for the next few months turned completely upside down and something that I was really looking forward to taken away in two seconds.

It's hard to process death, especially when it happens so rapidly. Sometimes God works slowly over months and years, and sometimes He rips your world apart in a matter of moments.

It's easy to say "yes, I will lay it down for your Kingdom, for the ministry that You've called me to", but it's hard to live with the consequences of that "yes".

I just finished asking "why". Why did You take that away from me? You know how much it meant to me. You know how much I was looking forward to it. It was literally giving me the will to live through the next few difficult months.

And therein the problem lies. I was putting a lot of hope in this certain event. And my hope had been steadily building through the last few days. And it was like God was asking in me that "why" moment how much I loved Him, and was I willing to lay down my life for His Kingdom, His agenda, and His purposes.

I love when God asks you if you love Him, and then asks you to prove it. He asks if I will be lower so He can be higher, poorer so He can be richer, disappointed and thwarted so His purposes can come to pass in my life and the life of others.

I know that God will bring good out of this disappointment. I know that this plan is better than the other, but it is still painful, still a death. And believe me, I am mourning it.

I wish that God would give me what I want all the time because I hate pain, and this is painful. BUT, in this death is a chance for life. What's that old hymn? "I'll live for Him, who died for me, how HAPPY then my life will be..." I may not have what I thought I wanted, needed, and had to have, but I know that God is near to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. And He gives the best to those who leave the choice with Him.

I know I would rather have Him send trial after trial, but give spiritual life and vitality (eyes to see and ears to hear), then to leave me alone with everything I want (an easy life, financial security, a husband and children), but spiritually destitute.

It's so hard to put this process into words, but it's like a broadening. Everytime God asks me to die to myself, He gives the grace to enjoy Him a little bit more, to comprehend more of His goodness, to appreciate His infinite worth a little more. My soul broadens, but it costs. It is not an easy yes.

Pray for me. Pray for the courage to answer yes, even when it costs me everything I have, because this I know for certain: He IS worth it.

Stuffed

"If you don't feel strong desires for the manifestation of the glory of God, it is not because you have drunk deeply and are satisfied. It is because you have nibbled so long at the table of the world. Your soul is stuffed with small things, and there is no room for the great."
— John Piper, from A Hunger for God

Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. - Philippians 3:8a

My soul is so easily stuffed with small things. I don't count all things as loss. Lord, forgive me for living a life that contradicts what I confess with my mouth.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness. It's easy to accept, but hard to give. And I'm really having a problem with it right now. Every time I try to forgive, all the issues come to the surface and I think "I cannot believe they did that to me!" or "how dare they! They need to pay!" It's hard to be gracious and forgiving when all you want to do is punch someone in the face.

I guess it all comes down to the fact that I want this party to pay. To suffer like I did. I'm not ready to forgive their sorry behind or put the mess behind me. I want compensation for my suffering.

And have you ever noticed that it so much harder to forgive your brother or sister in Christ? Shouldn't they know better, we reason? But God saves the most unlikely people (just look at yourself) with seemingly the worse behavioral and social problems. It takes grace and hard work to forgive.

When those thoughts of anger and revenge come boiling up, it's hard to squash them and choose to forgive instead. To not count their wrongs against them. To choose forgiveness rather than revenge. It's an almost pleasant experience to ruminate on another party's sins. Sort of self-justifying, as though you're saying "sure, I'm bad. But nothing compared to so-and-so, that jerk-face!"

It is hard to operate in the Spirit, rather than the flesh, because, frankly, the flesh comes so much easier. I am still having trouble forgiving someone who recently wounded me. I want to lick my wounds and plot my revenge, but I know that's not what God did with me. He overcame my sin and rebellion toward Him at great cost to Himself. Why do I think it would be any different for me?

Forgiveness is not cheap. It is costly to the one who must forgive the other person's offense. I wish I didn't have to forgive. I wish my life were rainbows and butterflies and I skipped hand-in-hand down the street with everyone I met, just singing a happy song. But the reality is that I live in a sin-sick world, where everyone, including me, needs to forgive and be forgiven.

Forgiveness is a chance to be like my Savior. To taste in small part how offensive my sins are to a holy God, how hurtful, and damaging, and estranging (how is that a word? Oh well, spell-check let it go), and how costly forgiveness really is.

Would you pray for me? I don't want to be angry or unforgiving, but it is so hard to for me to forgive right now. I'm still a little hurt and angry by the actions of this other person. I spoke with a mentor about it and she told me "it's okay to admit to the other person that you're still working on forgiving them". So yeah, I'm still working on forgiving them. Pray for the grace to complete it.

Plastic Pop Beads

God keeps slapping me in the face with Mark 8:35: "For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it."

It's been over a year now since that verse got stuck in my devotional craw. I think this means that the truth of it hasn't sunk in enough to actually change my heart; God has to keep bringing me back to it until I learn the lesson.

Today I made a list of everything that I fear this verse might mean in my life. All the things that I fear God could, is, will call me to give up for His sake. It was a depressing list. It filled me dread.

But it was also freeing. All of the best things in life are nothing compared to Christ and the surpassing worth of knowing Him. That is the truth.

Big things, little things, He wants them all. He wants all of me, my dearest treasures, my fondest hopes. He wants me to bow my knee to the truth that He is better than any of those things and by faith live out the consequences of this belief. He wants me to put my hope in Him.

I read this story today and I wanted to share. It's from a transcript of a message given at Urbana 1984 by Joanne Shetler.

"I will never forget the story of the little girl whose daddy had given her some plastic pop beads. Now they were poor but she loved her daddy. And so she loved those beads. She wore them everywhere. She wore them to church; she wore them to school; she wore them to bed. She never took her beads off. They were the thing she loved most. One day her daddy came home, and asked her for those little beads back. She was incredulous. He asked again, and she got tears in her eyes. He asked a third time, and she was torn. She couldn't understand. Why is this? She loved those beads. She loved her daddy. Finally, sobbing, she took off her beads and put them in her daddy's hand. And then, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a string of real pearls and put them around her neck."

What is getting in the way of truly knowing Him and making Him my treasure? What are the plastic pop beads of my life? I've made a list, although, undoubtedly I'll have different priorities at different times of my life. I will constantly have to lay my treasures down.

But, amazingly, I want to. I want to show others the surpassing worth of Jesus by not making the things of this world my treasure. It's hard, of course, because everything worthwhile is costly. But it is worth it. God's Word testifies to this truth, and so do countless Christians before and beside me. And I want to be one of those who have counted it all loss, and found riches untold at the foot of Jesus.

Pearls for my pop beads.

Good News Club, part 2

Yesterday I spent the afternoon in Vilonia, Arkansas visiting a Good News Club held in the local elementary school there. This club is one of my favorites (if not my favorite) and I love visiting with the kids and staff.

The main teacher is a older gentleman, a bit rough around the edges, but extremely lovable. He and his wife have been involved with CEF since before I was alive. His way of teaching is...interesting, to say the least, but the kids are learning and they do love coming to club.

Have you ever noticed the great penchant for cheesiness in American Christianity? I have. Yesterday during club we sang an old CEF song which, thankfully, has been laid to rest. One of the lines in the song went something like this: "so we travel this world together, my Bible and I...". As we sang that line I immediately pictured myself driving down the road chillaxing, with a giant Bible sitting next to me in the passenger's seat. In my mental picture, the Bible had hands and feet, like something akin to Psalty the Singing Songbook. I had to laugh.

For me, one of the best things about working with CEF has been the fact that it has pushed me outside of my "theological comfort zone". I've gotten to know some very wonderful people with some very different views of Scripture than mine. Yesterday after club I ran across this thought in a John Piper book:

In times of peril, a bringer of news is better than great philosophers. Nor does it matter if his accent is good. Or his grammar. Or his looks. If he has good news for beleaguered people, he will be more treasured than ten thousand theologians. Plain people who have heard the news and been saved by it should take heart from this. People need news first. Hard questions can be answered later. We need joyful, breathless news-bringers, not just intelligent news commentators.

As Piper says: "Christianity is news before it is theology". He goes on to remind us that, of course, we need both: the good news of the gospel, and the theology which explains that good news and applies it to our lives. But, oh, let's not forget that the good news came first! I don't remember the first time I heard the gospel, but I do remember the first time I comprehended it as good news for me. It was a glorious moment.

God continues to humble me and to remind me that it's not about the fitness of the message-bearer (whether that be me or another), but instead, it's all about the message - His message - of good news.

Good News Club

Good News Clubs are wrapping up around the Little Rock area and I am enjoying my visits to each one. I am genuinely in love with the workers from each church that make these clubs possible. They are a delight and on each visit I enjoy getting to know them just a little bit better. Relationships can be messy, but I don't think there is anything better than getting good and entangled in someone else's life, and struggling forward together. We need to do this in the Body of Christ, especially in the Body of Christ.

Anyway, yesterday I visit two clubs located in the heart of the city. The first club had grown from five kids in the first six week session to thirty kids in the second. One of the girls who attended the first session ran over to me and gave me a hug. "I thought you had forgotten about us!", she exclaimed. I explained to her that I was helping other boys and girls at other schools learn about Jesus. This seemed to satisfy her and she ran back to join the group.

In this club I rotated between two groups of children - the rowdy little ones and the rambunctious older ones - and observed them learning Bible verses, participating in an object lesson about sin, writing down prayer requests for the "God Can", constructing a craft, and hearing about Satan's fall, not to mention singing, loudly, "God loves me, I know He does...", complete with clapping, stomping, and chest thumps.

Near the end of club, one of the leaders ran over to her co-leader and whispered something furtively in her ear. The co-leader's face broke into a wide smile. I later learned that they were discussing two little girls from this past summer's outreach who had heard the gospel at a 5-Day Club and since then had been coming to church regularly. The leader had learned at church the previous day that the two little girls plan on being baptized very soon. And there was much rejoicing.

It is wonderful to work with people who have such a burden to reach others with the gospel. Sometimes it feels like we're not getting anywhere, but then I am reminded how God can use little things, even years later, to bring someone to Himself. I continue to hear testimony of people who first heard the gospel and believed at a Good News Club. Children are such complicated little creatures. Who knows how God will choose to work in their lives?

These visits renew my vision and encourage me to just keep going. Ministry can be such a guessing game at times. There's not a set formula for ministry "success", and anyway, the definition of success is sketchy at best when it comes to ministry. Faithful obedience is what counts, and that is hard. I often forget that while I'm here in my little office answering e-mail, returning phone calls, planning training sessions, and praying, that lives are being changed.

It's good to be reminded every once in awhile.

Lies

God is teaching me many lessons here in Little Rock. Lately, He's been teaching me a lesson I didn't know I needed to learn.

The lesson is about how I view myself. This past week I've realized that I don't often view myself through God's eyes, that is rightly, but instead I view myself through my dad's eyes.

My biological dad died when I was five. My mom remarried when I was seven and her husband adopted me and my brother and sister when I was nine. He was really the only dad I ever knew.

The way he viewed me was as a burden. As too loud, too blunt, too truthful. I soon learned to keep out of his way. I never felt accepted by him. As I entered my teenage years, our relationship remained tumultuous. But I never wanted to be a victim, and when I was nineteen God granted me the grace to forgive him. I mean, really forgive him.

However, lately I've realized that there is still some hurt there, wounds that God needs to heal. I don't really want to address them. I'd rather ignore them, and go on with my life. I don't want to dwell.

In the past several years, since my mom and dad divorced due to his continued emotional and mental abuse and infidelity, my mom has reminded me about certain ways he abused me. I can't even remember them. Could I really have blocked out so much?

I figured it would be best for those memories to stay buried. I don't want to re-hash the past, but recently they've kept me from experiencing the fullness I have in Christ. I can't accept other people's acceptance of me, as strange as that sounds, because I am quite suspicious of it for one thing, and for another, I don't feel like I could possible deserve it.

Not that I do. Not that I deserve anything, however, I know that in Christ I am accepted, regardless of what I do or don't do. What? That is so strange to me. I've been trying to earn love all of my life.

I think God wants to heal my heart, but it's painful to face the lies I've been believing for so many years. And yet, I'm asking that God heals my heart and continues to replace all those lies with His truth about who I am in Christ: accepted, loved, forgiven, welcomed. I want to be able to give and (more difficult for me) accept love.

Isn't it funny how easily we believe lies about God, and consequently, ourselves? What lies are you believing? And how does what God has done in Christ Jesus combat those lies? How does the gospel make a difference in your life?

Mallow Bites, or the Downfall of Western Civilization

I picked these up at Wal-Mart today. They were a dollar. I was jonesing for some chocolate and, as we all know, nothing is better than chocolate and marshmallows. As I was munching on them, I turned the package around to check out the nutrition facts and spotted this warning outlined in red:

Eat one at a time.
For children under 6,
cut marshmallows into bite-sized pieces.
Children should always be seated
& supervised while eating.

I'm sorry, but I don't need someone to tell me how to eat my tasty marshmallow treats. Eat one at a time? Fail. Furthermore, aren't marshmallows bite-sized already? Are you really going to tell me that I need to cut up miniature marshmallows for my five year old?

Now, I realize that Kraft, the maker of this delightful snack, doesn't want to be held legally liable for some person shoving their mouth full of marshmallows and then choking to death, but please. I don't know what's worse: living in a world where people exercise no common sense whatsoever, or living in a world were people are so shameless that they would sue a company for their own stupidity. Either way, I am sadden.

And I totally ate more than one at a time. Sorry, Kraft.

Decisions

Decision, decisions. Why are they so hard to make?

Today I was blessed with another phone call from a dear friend helping me to think through the big decision that lays before me. I confessed to her just how much fear I feel in completely relinquishing the direction of my life to God. I am just so afraid that what He has for me will not be enough.

How awful does that sound? I am holding onto my life because I mistakenly assume it will safer in my own hands, than in His. Of course, the truth that God's way is perfect is a lot easier to acknowledge when it's on the pages of Scripture, than when it comes bursting into my personal life, demanding it's rights, demanding that I bow to it's truth.

But God does have rights over me. I have been bought with a price; I am not my own. I could sing of Your love forever...until it asks me to count the cost. Yesterday as I was talking with Joanna, we had almost decided that I could do whatever I wanted, until I remembered and quoted the verse: "If you love mother or father more than Me, you are not worthy of Me." All Joanna could say was "dang it!" Dang it, indeed.

I came across this quotation in a book by Amy Carmichael while thinking and praying over this decision. For me I think it pretty much comes down to this:

"If we refuse to be corns of wheat falling into the ground and dying; if we will neither sacrifice prospects, nor risk character, and property and health, nor, when we are called, relinquish home and break family ties, for Christ's sake and His gospel, then we shall abide alone...of all the plans for securing success the most certain is Christ's own, becoming a corn of wheat, falling into the ground and dying." - Thomas Gejaten Ragland

This quote hits me so hard because I am dazzled by success. It is definitely an idol in my life. I want to be successful, but more importantly, I want to be thought successful. This present course than I am on, as far as I can see, affords me none of the success that I so ardently crave. But why do I crave this worldly success? Is it an attempt to earn acceptance? I think so. And I am dismayed by this truth. If only it were easier to grasp the fact that I am accepted in Christ, and His acceptance is all that truly matters.

Honestly, I don't know why I'm sharing all of this. Hopefully, it will help someone else think about counting the cost of obedience. Or give them hope that they aren't the only ones who struggle with surrender. Because, quite frankly, I'm reading through missionary biographies, and they all seem to be running toward the field. But what if you're sort of plodding toward the field, hoping God may change His mind? Is that okay, too? I don't know, but I don't want to be a Jonah. I think I sort of wrestled with this when the call first came to come to Arkansas, only then, it was for a year, whereas now, who knows? This is a much bigger reality to me. A year of my life? Okay. The rest of my life? Can I get back to you on that?

But it's not, of course, only a matter of the mission field. It's a matter of my whole life. Am I willing to surrender my whole life my whole lifelong to God's plans for me? Scary. Very, very scary.

I don't know what God is teaching me through all this, but I do know that He has shown me some places in my life where I need to repent of my pride and bad attitudes and come to a renewed trust in His sovereignty AND a humility which trustingly accepts that His ways are better than mine. Perhaps through all of this, He will work in my heart a renewed vigor for the mission field that used to be there when I was nine (also, I sort of want to go back in time to the nine year old me and say "hey, knock it off, kid!") and eighteen (again, I would say "stop. Stop being so starry-eyed!) but I sort of feel that, just as in salvation, some calls are irrevocable...and I just need to come to terms with it.

Oh, dear. If only there was some sort of formula for decision-making, but there's not. I'm trusting God to show me the way. I appreciate your prayers and your comments. And also those people who I can dump all of my hardest questions on and say "well, what do you make of that?". It's amazing to experience God's faithfulness and love through the love and faithfulness of others.

Decisions!

Conviction

I just got off the phone with my best friend.

Here's how our relationship works: I have some sort of crisis. I call her and pour out my heart (usually this takes no less than an hour). She listens, interjecting only an occasional "mm, hm", while I scream, cry, or moan. After I finish pouring out my heart, we have some brief discussion of the matter, but mostly I've already talked through all of the issues, and can plainly see what I should do.

I'm sure glad God gave me Joanna, because she is a lot cheaper than therapy, and just as effective.

Seriously though, I've been wrestling through some issues, and have been hesitant to discuss them with her. I've talked about them briefly with her sister, I've talked about them in-depth with her mom (my spiritual mom), I've told the ladies in my church about them, but until I broke down and discussed it with her, I really hadn't gotten to the heart of the issues.

As I talked with her though, all the terrible motives, bad attitudes, and depravity just came pouring out of me. Who knew I had that much sin lurking in my heart (and there it is again - pride!)? God has been working on me this week, working on me hard, and today was the icing on the cake. But here's the deal: conviction is good.

It wasn't until recently that I began to really rejoice in the conviction of the Holy Spirit. It wasn't until recently, that I really began to understand what an extreme act of mercy -- of kindness -- conviction really is. If God is convicting you of your sins, don't fight it, He is keeping you from destruction! A chance to turn and repent? Yes, please.

It feels good to get things off my chest. It helps me to see where I really, what the real issues are, but more than that, it helps me to see how much I need a Savior. I need God to incline my heart to keep His Word. We sang a song in church today with a few lines that always get me:

"I would but can't repent,
Though I endeavor oft;
This stony heart can ne'er relent,
Till Jesus makes it soft.

I would but cannot love,
Though wooed by love divine;
No arguments have power to move
A soul as base as mine."

I can only stand and ask that God would grant to me what He commands of me. I know that I have no power of my own to obey, so I must pray not only for the inclination, but the power. Lord, help me to will against my will. I see what You have commanded, and I in no way am able, help my inability, help my unbelief.

And in His graciousness, faithfulness, and mercy, He continues to condescend to me. Wow, amazing love.

If

I'm having a Jonah day.

Have you ever had one of those? A day that is characterized by setting yourself up against the purposes of the Almighty? A day of running? A day of teeth grinding and whining and the breaking down of long-held biases?

Oh, but now I must make a confession: I'm not having a Jonah day, I'm having a Jonah year. And looking back, not only a Jonah year, but a Jonah decade. My greatest fear is that God would call me to be a missionary. Me, lover of missionaries since I was a little girl, fear to be counted among their ranks.

There is something so humbling about the mission field, and I am not a humble person. Please Lord, anywhere but here. Anything but that. I remember the day a few years ago when, in the midst of praying about the future, I felt with terrifying certainty that God was not going to answer my prayers in the way I expected Him to. In fact, I had the incredibly overwhelming sense that God was calling me back to the mission field.

Run Jonah, run.

Now, it's decision time again. I thought we had an agreement. This year of service in exchange for the rest of my life to pursue my own dreams. Let me get back to my plans just as soon as I can, don't bother me with Your designs. Mine, mine, mine. Only He commands, and it is resounding, "No. Mine."

I don't understand.

IF when an answer I did not expect
comes to a prayer I believe I truly meant,
I shrink back from it;
if the burden my Lord asks me to bear
be not the burden of my heart's choice,
and I fret inwardly and do not welcome His will,
then I know nothing of Calvary love.
~ Amy Carmichael

Eight Months

I know that more often than not this blog has been a place for me to blow off steam, moan about the hard things, or throw out my questions regarding the past, present, and future. But today, today, I have some glorious news. News that has taken me eight months, eight freaking months, to announce: two of our partner churches are finally coming together for ministry!

Big deal, you say. Oh, if only you knew the blood, sweat, and tears that have gone into pulling this off, you'd understand how truly fantastic this news is. Delays on their end, my end, everybody's end, nearly succeeded in keeping me in the very pit of despair regarding this partnership. But praise be to God who orders all things according to His glorious counsel, finally, finally, we'll all be coming together for training and ministry.

Do you hear it? It's the angels singing. No, don't say I'm blowing it out of proportion, because when you've been waiting eight months (eight freaking months) for something which seemed at the time so very easy to orchestrate, and which looked as if it might never take place -- in other words, something truly impossible -- this is nothing short of a miracle. In fact, I think it might be. And I wanted to record it because I think it just might be a harbinger of things to come.

Wreckage

I went for a really long drive on the back roads of Little Rock today. Spring is bursting out all over the place and the trees, bushes, and flowers are all in bloom. The grass seems perkier as well and I enjoyed its vibrant green color against the blue skies.

I went driving with the radio turned on and my thoughts for the most part turned off. Sometimes you need to do this in order to achieve a renewed level of sanity. But my thoughts eventually turned back on. It is sometimes surprising to find out what is lurking in the recesses of the mind. At least for me. We live in a world of constant stimulation, and it is so easy (scarily so) to ignore your own heart. Don't want to deal with an issue? BOOM! Log onto Facebook and hear about someone else's for a little while, or at least long enough to forget your own.

What is lurking in my heart? Honestly, a whole lot of anger. This is not surprising to me. It seems that my whole life long I have been dealing with anger about something or other. I think I have many really good reasons to be angry, and many good reason to be not angry. Some of the good reasons why I am angry include other people's sin. I am angry at the way their sin has affected my whole life. I am a broken human being because of someone else's sin.

At the same time, I'm sure other people can say the same of me. We are all broken because of sin. I once heard a quote which went along the lines of "we all live in the wreckage of other people's sin". Sad, profound, and true. I know there are some who would instantly disagree with me and claim that "Jesus came to give me victory!" or platitudes like that, but the plain fact is that while Jesus did achieve the ultimate victory over sin, and one day we will live in a world redeemed from the Fall, we still live in a very, very sinful world.

This is evident all around us, and sometimes it touches us very close to home. I have lived through my share of heartache due to the effects of sin, and it makes me very angry. At the same time, there is a lot of hope in this sin-sick world, a lot of redemption, and I see it all around me. Men who get up in the morning and are faithful to do the right thing even when others around them fail. That gives me hope. Women who love imperfect people imperfectly and will never stop. That gives me hope.

I spoke on the phone with one of my best friends in the world last night. We talked, among other things, about the wreckage we live in everyday. It has touched and changed each of us. She asked and I talked about how I am mostly completely flummoxed by this year in Little Rock. Most days I wake up and think "what-the-h am I doing here?". It makes no sense to me. My life here is so ordinary and I can't for the life of me comprehend the lessons God is teaching me. This makes me kind of nervous. I need some justification for moving away from my friends and family, my life, to Jacksonville, Arkansas, of all places. I thought God had some big, grand reason for moving me here, and although I know beyond a doubt that He wanted me here, I still want a really good, crystal-clear reason for it. So far, no dice.

So what is God doing? The not-knowing makes me angry, confused, and a little doubtful. The last three years of my life have been such a roller-coaster of events, emotions, and spiritual growth all moving me to a place that I didn't expect or want at all: here. While I was making the decision to move here, people kept saying "you should just do what you want to do", which annoyed me to no end. What I wanted to do was exactly the opposite of this, but what do you do when what you want to do isn't an option? Well, you do the next best thing, or in my case, the next possible thing. You obey the light you've been given even as the darkness closes around what you really wanted.

When what we expect to happen doesn't, we are left with so many broken pieces to make sense of, and then, hopefully, gracefully, to move on from into the life we had never imagined, but are nonetheless living. How do we do that? I am still struggling with this question. My times with God are still filled with questions, and even sometimes accusations, mingled with pleas for direction. What now? Where now?

I guess this is a post I've had bottled up in me for a few months now, ever since I closed the door finally and completely on a part of my life that I held far too dear for far too long. I am a fool for clinging so completely to such incomplete happiness. My hands are loose now, and what do I grasp? My Savior, of course, who is the only One who can make sense of my life in the end, who IS my life in the end. I thought I was clinging to Him, but I realize now that I was grasping Him in one hand while holding onto my own plans with the other. Now that both hands are free to grasp Him, I feel a little off-balanced. My other hand is still trying to cling onto other things besides Him. Foolish, but redeemable, girl.

My life is filled with dichotomy. I am surrounded by wreckage and beauty, good and evil, joy and pain. I know there are many "reasons" that I can't fully comprehend or even appreciate now in the midst of it. Maybe I should let go of my desire to know, and instead rest. I always like to end my blog posts on a happy note, or at least a note of hope; resolution would probably be the best word for it, actually. Oh, but things are not resolved. Not at all.

But I'm not working on figuring it all; I'm working on trusting.