Gifts of God

This is a good reminder of the priorities of the kingdom of God. I confess I often forfeit the joy which would be mine for earthly baubles. Lord, I pray for the grace to turn away from those fleeting things to You, the true source of all true joy.

"God oftentimes withholds riches and honours,

and health of body from men...

Honours and riches and bodily strength are none of God's good things;

they are of the number of things indifferent which God bestows promiscuously upon the just and the unjust, as the rain to fall and the sun to shine.

The good things of God are chiefly peace of conscience

and the joy in the Holy Ghost in this life."

~ C. H. Spurgeon

35 Reasons Not to Sin

I found this on the Rebelution blog a few months ago.
Reading through this list is like a punch in the gut.
But it's a pain that does me good.

35 Reasons Not to Sin

Because a little sin leads to more sin.

Because my sin invites the discipline of God.

Because the time spent in sin is forever wasted.

Because my sin never pleases but always grieves God who loves me.

Because my sin places a greater burden on my spiritual leaders.

Because in time my sin always brings heaviness to my heart.

Because I am doing what I do not have to do.

Because my sin always makes me less than what I could be.

Because others, including my family, suffer consequences due to my sin.

Because my sin saddens the godly.

Because my sin makes the enemies of God rejoice.

Because sin deceives me into believing I have gained when in reality I have lost.

Because sin may keep me from qualifying for spiritual leadership.

Because the supposed benefits of my sin will never outweigh the consequences of disobedience.

Because repenting of my sin is such a painful process, yet I must repent.

Because sin is a very brief pleasure for an eternal loss.

Because my sin may influence others to sin.

Because my sin may keep others from knowing Christ.

Because sin makes light of the cross, upon which Christ died for the very purpose of taking away my sin.

Because it is impossible to sin and follow the Spirit at the same time.

Because God chooses not to respect the prayers of those who cherish their sin.

Because sin steals my reputation and robs me of my testimony.

Because others once more earnest than I have been destroyed by just such sins.

Because the inhabitants of heaven and hell would all testify to the foolishness of this sin.

Because sin and guilt may harm both mind and body.

Because sins mixed with service make the things of God tasteless.

Because suffering for sin has no joy or reward, though suffering for righteousness has both.

Because my sin is adultery with the world.

Because, though forgiven, I will review this very sin at the Judgment Seat where loss and gain of eternal rewards are applied.

Because I can never really know ahead of time just how severe the discipline for my sin might be.

Because my sin may be an indication of a lost condition.

Because to sin is not to love Christ.

Because my unwillingness to reject this sin now grants it an authority over me greater than I wish to believe.

Because sin glorifies God only in His judgment of it and His turning of it to good use, never because it is worth anything on it's own.

Because I promised God he would be Lord of my life.

Devoid Evangelism

Does anyone else have a problem with impersonal evangelism, that is, evangelism seperated from at least a basic relationship with the other person? Boy, I do.

This weekend I was highly pressured to participate in a program whose premise I felt was all wrong. I was led to believe that the people in question "needed" me to be their friend. But not to be their friend because they are, as I am, created in the image of God and endowed with an inherant value that comes from that very fact, but because they are "lost" and, apparently, need my help to be found. Wrong. Now, I will never entirely build a relationship with another person uninterestedly, but I do believe that being someone's friend simply for the sake of proselytizing that person is dehumanizing, and what's more, unnecessary in God's economy.

I flatly refused to participate. Since I am a missionary, I will add the disclaimer that this had nothing whatever to do with my job or the organization that employs me. But I have often had problems with "random" evangelism. Although I believe that God can and does use this type of evangelism (that is, evangelism divorced from a basic relationship between the two parties) in the lives of individuals to draw them to Himself, I also believe that nothing is done outside of relationship. So while God may use an open air type ministry to finally draw us to Himself, it is not the only deciding blow. And we must be careful ourselves when participating in this type of activity that we don't look at others as simply a notch on our spiritual belt.

It was interesting then that I should come across this passage in a book I'm reading by Francis Schaeffer called "True Spirituality":

"We are not to stop with a proper legal relationship - for example, to think of a man as legally lost, which he is, in the sight of a holy God - without thinking of him as a person. Saying this, we can suddenly see that much of evangelism is not only sub-Christian, but subhuman - legalistic and impersonal."

Now, I'll be intellectually honest enough to say that this particular quote did in fact cause me to throw up my arms in victory and adopt a sort of "yes, I'm right!" stance, but even though I am imperfect in my reasons for pointing it out, I still thought it was a valid point. A very interesting, valid point.

Good News Club Quotes

My poor blog is so lonely and abandoned. I shall take pity on it and post some interesting things the kids at Good News Club said today.

A little boy who wanted to be called "Skittles" (kids are weird) prayed before snack today. Here's what he said at the end:

"God, thanks for Brother Mike who started this Good News Club. Thanks that he's not just being lazy..."

Another little boy commented about the song visual I held up at club:

"Miss Jeanne? That kid on the last page looks like Obama!"

He looked at me as if I were conspiring to take down the nation.

I didn't quite know what to say, or why it really matter if the kid on the visual did look like Obama, but I felt I owed him an explanation, or an excuse, before he started accusing me of being a socialist:

"Uh...I'm sure it wasn't intentional..."

A little girl had her own unique view on heaven's benefits:

"Well, if you mess up in heaven, watch out because God might kick you out and throw you down to hell!"

I am always astounded by the heresy that even "church" kids perpetuate. Totally depravity in action, folks. I am always astounded, but not always tactful:

"Uh, no. You cannot "mess up" in heaven..."

I then went on to try and explain the concept of glorification in a way a child would understand. I'm not sure if I succeeded.

I think Good News Club gave me a headache (I know it did), but at least it keeps me entertained.

The Love of God, A Prayer

Our Father, which art in heaven, we Thy children are often troubled in mind, hearing within us at once the affirmations of faith and the accusations of conscience. We are sure that there is in us nothing that could attract the love of the One as holy and as just as Thou art. Yet Thou hast declared Thine unchanging love for us in Christ Jesus. If nothing in us can win Thy love, nothing in the universe can prevent Thee from loving us. Thy love is uncaused and undeserved.

Thou art Thyself the reason for the love wherewith we are loved. Help us to believe the intensity, the eternity of the love that has found us. Then love will cast out fear; and our troubled hearts will be ar peace, trusting not in what we are but in what Thou hast declared Thyself to be. Amen.

A.W. Tozer, 1897-1963

Enough

Today was a beautiful day.

After what feels like weeks, months, years of constant rain here in central Arkansas, it was nice to see an endless stretch of clear blue sky. I drove along the main road of downtown and admired the red maples planted in steady intervals along the street. I spent some time browsing the shelves of a used bookstore, although I came away empty-handed. I felt too restless to seriously consider any of the offerings found there.

I love this adventure I am on. I love the people I am meeting. I love my job. I love the fact that yesterday we got official permission from the Little Rock School District to hold Good News Clubs in the schools. I love my church. I love the beauty of central Arkansas. But I do not love everything here. Some things about this new life are hard, and make me feel restless. Mostly the fact that I am surrounded by strange and unfamiliar people and places. Mostly the fact that I can't go over to my best friend's house and talk the night away with her, or drop by my mom's house, eat a little dinner, and complain about the little I have to complain about in life.

I am a fairly independent person. In fact, I have always wanted to move to a completely new city where no one knows me and build a life. Well, I guess my dream came true. Only, I would like someone to go to the movies with now. But perhaps that is the price I pay for this experience. This for that. A little loneliness for a year of new experiences in a new city. At any rate, it has definitely been a stretching experience.

There are things to love and hate here, as in any place or season of life. I am learning, fitfully, sometimes faithlessly, to be content. I know God has guided me here, and it's not a perfect place where all my dreams are coming true, but another place where He is teaching and refining me. There is nothing mystical about it, only getting up day-by-day to live by faith and learn (or maybe I should say re-learn) that He is enough.

I gotta preach to myself sometimes, you know?

Lazarus the Chicken Man

I was standing in the hallway of one of CEF's partner churches waiting for a meeting to start when I spotted him - Lazarus the Chicken Man. All around me on the walls were lovely murals of Jesus' life and ministry. I wasn't really interested in them, although the colors did strike me as vivid and the art work as something particularly adept, not your normal church fare at all.

Directly in front of me was a mural depicting Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. I studied Jesus, moved onto Mary, but was arrested by the get-up newly-alive Lazarus sported. Was it just me, or did Lazarus look like he was wearing a giant chicken suit?

What do you think? As you study this work, observe how fightened that sheep looks. Mary too.

It's almost as if Lazarus dressed up for some out-of-control frat party, but died before he could get to it. Just imagine: Jesus commands the men to unbind him, when all of a sudden Lazarus steps forth in all of his chicken glory and shouts "par-tay!" Then they all go down to his house and have some good wine. Yeah, this is the Gospel as it should be - lots of rejoicing, and redeemed frat boys, and good wine. Let me tell you, it made my day.

Update from Little Rock

I've been working with CEF of Central Arkansas for two months now, and I know it sounds so cliche, but it's hard to believe. Honestly, it feels like I've been here for a much longer period of time, and yet I feel like I'm just now getting the hang of things. Really, just ten more months? I don't think I'll be done with Little Rock by then. Possibly it will be done with me, though. I don't know what that means exactly, but it sounds cryptic, doesn't it?

I love this job. At times I feel guilty for drawing a salary for doing this thing I love so much. I hope no one finds out! There have been frustrations, yes, and lots of them. One them is connecting with contacts from each church in order to get their Good News Club started. Today, after many ignored phone messages, one of the churches finally got back to me and told me the bad news: they decided they didn't want to hold a club after all. This is totally fine with me.

I know I'm supposed to feel indignant that they are revoking the commitment they made to CEF in the spring. Possibly I should fall to the floor screaming "NOOOOOOO!", but honestly what makes me the most peeved is that they don't just tell me. They knew, probably right after Little Rock '09, that they had no intention of holding a Good News Club this fall. Why drag out the inevitable? I have so many other churches who actually want to hold a club that it frustrates me to expend so much effort in trying to contact a church that isn't really into CEF when I could be pouring that time and effort into a church that really is into CEF.

Like one of the children's pastors here who heads up our first ever After-school Good News Club. He and his team have been working for over a year to start this club, and when I go to visit I just smile. First of all, the kids love him and his team. Secondly, he is super organized - he color-codes AND alphabetizes. I'm so in love! And today a member of the team called me to tell me that he had talked with a principal from Bald Knob (I have no idea where that is) this weekend who wants a Good News Club in her school. They're doing my work for me! I'm not offended by churches with no heart for this ministry, certainly God doesn't call everyone to it, and that's okay, but they could at least stop wasting my time. Augh!

Tomorrow is, Lord willing, going to be another full day as I meet with three different churches to discuss clubs. I love these meetings because I'm able to sit down and hear other people's stories, and they are always so interesting, both the people and the stories. One of the meetings is with one of my favorite ministers from a local Methodist church. I talked with him today, and after I had identified myself ("hello, this is Jeanne Hulme with CEF...") he exclaimed "hello my friend!", like we were best pals, even though I have only met him once, and only talked with him a few times since then. Gotta love these Southerners...

Yes, it's been a good few months all in all, and from all appearances it will only get better. God is so faithful and kind, that I have experienced, well, all of my life really, but certainly during these last few months especially. What His Word says is true: there is no want when you follow Him.

Goodnight, y'all.

Good News Club

This afternoon the first official After-school Good News Club was held in the Greater Little Rock area!

Actually, the club was held in a school district outside of Little Rock in the small community of Vilonia. We had fifteen children in attendance, and the club went off without a hitch. It was the very first After-school Good News Club I had ever attended, taught, and supervised. It was a little backwards, but it worked. God sometimes surprises me with crazy things like that.

I continue to experience moments of culture shock here in Arkansas, and today was no exception. When CEF first starts an After-school Good News Club in a new school you expect people to be a bit leary or suspicious of the program, as if we where there to brainwash the children with our dirty Jesus-talk. I "expected" that this would be the case in Vilonia as well. Not so. From the moment we walked in the school personnal were laughing and joking around with the team, which consisted of the children's pastor and three other members of the congregation.

As we walked into the library to set up our sign-in station, the librarians greeted us warmly with their soft southern drawls, and a few minutes later one of them whipped out a photo album. The three older members of our team flocked over to her ooo-ing and aw-ing over pictures of her grandchildren. Pastor Dan must have read my mind as I stood there watching this scene unfold. "Yeah, this is a real closed-knit community...", he said by way of explanation. I flashed him a smile, not minding one bit. There are times when I am thankful for smooth sailing and receptive hearts!

I can't help but fall in love with the people of Arkansas. I am really such a snob sometimes, but if I had to stick around here for awhile, I don't think it would be the worse thing. In fact, it just might be the best thing that's ever happened to me. Confession time? Little Rock is starting to feel like home, and the people here are leaving their mark on my heart.

First Pictures

A few random pictures from my first few weeks here.

Welcome to Arkansas, the natural state.

And this is where the magic happens, folks...

My coffemaker. Yes, it's that important.

Baxter, a dog I met my second week here. You'll notice he's sitting on my bed. Cheeky little fellow, but I like him.

I took this picture right across the street from my little church, Christ Church Conway. You'll notice the sign proudly proclaims "Conway - Home of Kris Allen". Who is Kris Allen? Only the most recent winner of American Idol! Conway, Arkansas, is his hometown and about thirty minutes away from Little Rock.

Well, that's it. A few snapshots of my world here in Arkansas.

The Truth about Me

Note: I hesitate to post this because I don't want to cause certain brothers and sisters in Christ to stumble. But you need to know the truth: I can't live a life of holiness by the sheer force of my will. It is God's work from beginning to end. How often I have tried to clean myself up apart from God's grace. But the same grace that saves, is the grace that sanctifies. How liberating it is to leave behind all of that pretense and run to the cross of Christ as my only refuge and defense. When you're done reading this I'll meet you there.

I hate when people find out the truth about me. I prefer that they view me as some type of “super-Christian”. It’s disheartening to have to share with people who I am and where I've come from and see something very like pity cross their faces.

I’m not going to lie, for several years now I have bristled and, for lack of a better word, freaked-out, when anyone has belabored the last few years of the drama that is my family. Mostly these people have included my mother and sister.

Last week it was time to tell a few people in Arkansas the truth about me: how my alcoholic, abusive father died when I was five, how my mother re-married a man when I was seven, whom she later divorced when I was twenty-five, because as it turned out He loved porn more than his wife and children. I am still working through many issues from this eighteen year period of abuse at his hands.

When I tell people the edited version of my story I try to keep things light and happy (if such a thing is possible) and end with “God is good, and He knows what He’s doing”, which is a truth I will readily give my assent to at anytime. However, the truth is that I am deeply scarred by this deeply fallen world, with all the issues and problems such scars bring. Knowing God is in control and working all things together for good doesn’t somehow exempt me from the “work” that working through all these issues involves. How glad I am that God is reconciling and restoring this world to Himself through Jesus Christ.

I hesitate sometimes to be “real”, a real person with real issues and struggles. The main reason is sin. I am full of pharisaical pride. As I was growing up I was taught that Jesus saved you so you could live a moral life on earth and one day go to heaven. I was in training to be a little Pharisee. The person who taught me this, not with words but through example, was my porn-loving dad. He didn’t smoke, drink, or cuss. He went to church every Sunday, and placed his ten-percent in the offering plate, but never one penny more, because that’s what "good" (read: nominal) Christians did. Of course, the rest of the week they could live like hell, as God seemed not to notice the other six days of their lives. Oh, and live like hell he did. He cheated on his wife (or should I say wives, as he has had several), mentally and emotionally abused his three oldest children every single day, and resented (and as far as I know still resents) every minute of his pseudo-Christian life.

So most of my life I lived with this example of what a “good” Christian looks like on the outside, and was taught that on the inside I could be full of dead men’s bones and it was just fine with God. But it wasn't. For the past three years or so God has been completely blowing my mind with the truth of who He really is and how I am to relate to Him on the basis of that truth.

I’m so glad that since eternity God has been pursuing me for a relationship with Him through Jesus Christ. I mean, that is just unbelievable. All of those years of hurt and pain, all of those hurtful, hateful words hurled at me, the snubs, and belittling that went on behind closed doors have only served to bring me to God. He has taken all of those truly horrible, sinful things and brought them into subjection in order to serve His purpose and bring me to Himself. Only a sovereign God could be capable of such a thing.

I know God did and does allow horrible things to take place in my life, and not just in my life, but in the lives of others as well. What is He about? I know, because the Bible says so, God is angry with the wicked every day. God will judge my dad, as He will judge me. The question is: am I under His mercy through Jesus Christ, or under His wrath without an Advocate. I have hope through God’s Word and the witness of the Spirit that it is the former.

The summer I entered high school I went to a Christian camp and promptly fell in love with the son of a missionary. In my eyes he could do no wrong – my love for him was absolute and unconditional, until the day I heard him say “crap”. Being the son of missionary cannot always be fun. To be under the scrutiny of people at all times must be wearying. It must be something very like being an actual missionary...

Anyway, when I heard him say the forbidden word I immediately lost respect for him. How a “good” Christian could ever have a crappy day, much less use that disgusting, and decidedly “un-Christian” word to describe it was beyond me (also note this was about thirteen years ago and I was a sheltered little home-schooler. We didn't say things like that in my home. Adultery, yes. Naughty words, no). Little did I know that there would be days in my life when nothing would seem to express the way I felt like a really good cuss word (and not “crap” either. I mean a really good one).

But, you will say, what about the Bible verse which says “let no unwholesome word come out of your mouth, but only that which is good for edification”? Oh, absolutely. That’s why I hold back most of the time (I dare not say all of the time. I have too many reliable witnesses who would be more than willing to confess to how much I love a well-chosen cuss word). But often times this restraint is motivated, not by faith in God’s love for me when He commands such behavior, but by the desire to appear admirable to people. Also, if there is anybody out there who loves me like I loved Brian Estep, I would much rather they go on loving me, than not.

All this to say that I am ready to talk about my past again; I haven’t been for a really long time. You see, I’ve been convicted lately about what a Pharisee I am. It’s so easy to slip into that mindset when no one knows your past and you can work off of how you appear now - if not really sanctified, than at least better behaved. It is wearying, and evil. I’m not advocating bad behavior for the sake of not being a Pharisee; but I am advocating that I stop putting my hope in good behavior and my own ability to live a moral life.

I want to step out of the filthy rags of self righteousness, clean out these dead bones, and cling ferociously to Jesus and His righteousness. I suck at living a moral life. Why? Because the Holy Spirit will never endorse or enable me to do it apart from Jesus. The Holy Spirit is a real big fan of Jesus, I’ve found.

In the midst of hurt, pain, and sin I thank God that He’s still drawing me to Himself through Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. He doesn’t give up, just relentlessly pursues me. So now you know the truth about me – a broken, messed-up, sometimes foul-mouthed sinner, who needs Jesus to keep on saving her from these things and saving her to her highest purpose: glorifying God and enjoying Him forever through and because of the person and work of Jesus Christ, and Him alone.

It is the ultimate freedom.

A Sunday Hymn

Help My Unbelief

I know the Lord is nigh,

And would but cannot pray,

For Satan meets me when I try,

And frights my soul away.

And frights my soul away.

I would but can't repent,

Though I endeavor oft;

This stony heart can ne'er relent

Till Jesus makes it soft.

Till Jesus make it soft.

I would but cannot love,

Though wooed by love divine;

No arguments have power to move

A soul as base as mine.

A soul so base as mine.

I would but cannot rest,

In God's most holy will;

I know what He appoints is best,

And murmur at it still.

I murmer at it still.

Help my unbelief. Help my unbelief. Help my unbelief.

My help must come from Thee.

- John Newton, 1725-1807

Chorus:Clint Wells

We sang this hymn at church today. I think it beautifully highlights our complete inability to make ourselves right with God. Even repentance is a gift. I needed to pray this hymn today. I would, but cannot...Jesus, I need You to change my heart and turn it toward You. Mercifully grant me repentance and love for You according to Your will.

The Purple Cow, or Joanna and Jeanne Laugh Their Heads Off

Once upon a time, when Karen, Joanna, and Jeanne were in junior high they fancied themselves writers. This belief led them to compose a dreadfully silly, drama-soaked missive simply titled "Our Saga". One of the characters in the aforementioned story was a cow of purple persuasion, aptly named "The Purple Cow". He even had a theme song, which was actually just a Phil Keaggy song with the words "Purple Cow" inserted where "Love Divine" had once been. Sometimes the girls still sing it when they are in a silly mood, or when they are at a one-of-a-kind restaurant named "Purple Cow"!

Karen found "Purple Cow" in a travel guide. Of course, we knew we had to go. When we got there we found our own table and ordered, what else, Purple Cow milkshakes and malts, vanilla-flavored purple madness. This picture is simply entitled, "Purple Gluttony".

After we all drank A LOT of purple milkshake I threatened to "purple throw-up". Karen did not appreciate that, but Joanna, she of the iron-stomach (except where pickles are concerned), drank on. I have never been more proud of her.

After we had our fill of purple, we ventured outside. Karen insisted we pose in front of the "Purple Cow" sign. We tired out hardest, but we couldn't keep a straight face. Especially when a lady sitting on the patio of the restaurant gave us a look as if to say "what the heck is wrong with those girls? They should know better!" Indeed, we should.

Observe the way Joanna imitates the women. She started laughing and as we all know, once Joanna starts laughing, I do. Karen simply sighed (she was always the more mature one. Even her "Saga" entries were more refined, if such a thing could be possible), and muttered "typical". Well, yes, but I think that's why she loves us so much.

Finally we got it together.

I'm so glad Karen and Joanna came to visit me this weekend. I love them so much! Wouldn't you?

The Weekend in Pictures

This weekend Karen and Joanna made the seven hour trek from St. Louis to Little Rock for Labor Day weekend, bringing some much-needed laughter and fun with them. It is so good to be around people who know you so completely and like you anyway! Here are some photos from this weekend, along with the accompanying stories, or course.

Karen and Joanna met Bud and Nancy, my host family for the year.

Don't they look like fun? When Joanna thanked Nancy for allowing them to visit for the weekend Nancy said, "oh, well, we really had no choice" in her off-beat way. Joanna laughed and laughed. So did I.

Randy and Ferdine are missionaries in Italy with SIM. They have been staying at the Big Blue Farmhouse for their summer furlough, but left today. My life will be much less interesting now that Randy isn't around to pick up the dog and dance with him across the room.

Karen, Joanna, and I had many adventures this weekend, including trying to track down the "little rock" of Little Rock. We didn't ultimately succeed in that quest, but we did find many other interesting sites, including this big statue of Casimir Pulaski. He is Karen's personal hero, affording her a day off from school once a year. Can you see the admiration in her eyes?

Well, you could see it if she didn't have her super cool sunglasses on.

Speaking of Karen, she made an unexpected friend in Little Rock. MacGregor-dog fell in love with her! While I basically ignore him (except when he slobbers on my dress pants, or knocks books out of my hand in a desperate bid for attention, or barks, barks, barks his head off at 5:30 in the morning, at which times I scold him), Karen taught him to shake paws. Nancy is still talking about how much she liked Karen, and even MacGregor looks a little depressed. Karen, come back!

Oh, sure, he looks innocent enough, cute even, but don't let him fool you. His bark is chilling, especially early in the morning.

Before they left, Karen took a pciture of me in my pajamas (and not even my cute ones! In fact, I think Randy mocked them at breakfast) in front of the Big Blue Farmhouse. I include it only because I want you to see where I live. It's quite picturesque, don't you think?

Well, that's enough for tonight. Come back tomorrow for pictures detailing our trip to the Purple Cow.

Discourse on My Present State, or Poor, Poor Pitiful Me

These days my feelings vacillate.

There are days when I deeply love this new place, and then there are days when loneliness creeps in and I start to feel sorry for myself. "They've all forgotten me" is what I think, and then I feel like crying. Or, when I have to go to the office and work there for eight hours, alone, and lonely, and bored out of my mind, my only lifeline the phone with which I call people who themselves are vacillating, wondering if they really want to go ahead with their After-school Good News Clubs. "You'd better go ahead with that club!" is what I think, because if they don't, then I am a huge moot point.

I find myself checking Facebook. A lot. I realize this is pathetic, but it gives me a sense - albeit false -of connectedness. I tell myself that now is a good time to read all of those books I have piled up beside my bed, or write a book, or jog (yeah, right!), or take up some type of handy-craft, say knitting, or scrap-booking (this is even more unrealistic than jogging), or just sit and commune with nature (there is A LOT of nature around these parts, most of it incredibly itchy), but no, I crave people.

There are people in Arkansas, I just don't know them yet, I guess. One of the things I love about Arkansas though, is Bud and Nancy, my host family for the year. I wish I could spend whole days just following Nancy around with a notebook to write down all of the crazy, funny, wise things she says. The other day she reminded me not to eat the dog food which she had put on the kitchen counter, "Jeanne! Now, don't eat the dog food!" As though there were some danger of my actually doing this (note to self: don't eat dog food. Also, try to stop looking like a person who would eat dog food). She is just hilarious. The other night she was making fun of televangelists, and their "holy hair-dos" as she calls them. "Just think", she said, while watching one of them beg for money, "if I only send in some seed money we could all be rich!"

Yes, there are plenty of interesting people in Arkansas, but none with whom I've really connected. I am a stranger in a strange land. The only person here who can't wait to see me at the end of the day is MacGregor, and he really isn't a person, but only the very large dog which the Hancocks own. Apparently, he loves me. The other night we had a "guest", the French bulldog of a guy named Lane (also not my soulmate), and MacGregor had a fit when I started to pay attention to Baxter, running around the house, nipping at Baxter, just generally being a nuisance. "Oh, he's so jealous! He's showing off for you!" exclaimed Nancy, by way of explanation. If only MacGregor would realize I don't feel the same way, because, well, he's a dog. And he barks. A lot.

Anyway, it would be nice to find a friend. I am all the time tempted to walk up to someone reasonably sane-looking and just ask them "will you be my friend?", but I feel that would be even more pathetic than endless Facebook surfing. How does one meet people in a new town? Church. Yes, I'm trying. The grocery store? Possibly. Work? I'm the only one in the office! Probably I'll start talking to myself after awhile, and then no one will want to be my friend. "Don't talk to her!", people will start to say. "She's weird!" Maybe they already do. Maybe that's why I don't have any friends. Hm...

Yes, well, it is a little humorous. A very little. At least I still have that. In my hours upon hours of pure loneliness, I can amuse myself with pithy little antidotes about my life in Arkansas. But really, it isn't so bad. Some of the greatest people in the world were lonely - all of the Reformers at one point in their lives, the Puritans, many, many famous explorers, Mary, Queen of Scots - I mean, they all had stretches of loneliness. They are also all dead. Well, I thought blogging would cheer me up, but now...

Some days I vacillate.

More Calvin Cake, Please

For Karen, my Reformed buddy

"However many blessings we expect from God,

His infinite liberality will always exceed

all our wishes and our thoughts.”

John Calvin, 1509-1564

Workout

I've joined a gym. It's called Fitness 10 and it's located just a few blocks away from my office. Now I have no excuse not to go every single day after work. Truthfully, I am quite intimidated by the gym scene, especially this particular one. Before CEF of Little Rock I used to work for the Y and had a free membership to their facilities. There is nothing overtly intimidating about little old ladies walking on treadmills, or men of a certain age pathetically lifting five pound weights. Now, I'm the pathetic one.

For some reason this gym is staffed by super athletic people, girls whose waist are about the size of nothing, and guys whose biceps are bigger than their heads. I don't like this. It's obscene to be that much in shape. To make matters worse, this gym is also populated by all of the most attractive guys in North Little Rock who I imagine are having this conversation all the time in their heads: "YEA! I LOVE WORKING OUT!" or "YEA! I LOOK GOOD!" or "YEA!" followed by the sound of crickets, because really, any persons that ripped must not be very deep. But I digress.

The conversations in my head are nothing like theirs. My conversations go something like this: "YEA! I LOVE BROWNIES, AND I ONLY WORKOUT SO I CAN EAT MORE OF THEM WITHOUT DYING!" or "I HATE IT HERE!" or (when I have to walk by the attractive guys) "I NEED NEW WORKOUT CLOTHES, MAYBE A BURKA!" Yes, I am all kinds of pathetic.

In moments like that last one, where I have to walk by all of those attractive, ripped, semi-intelligent guys, I wish my best girlfriends were here with me. Preferably Amanda, because I always have so much fun with her at the gym, or Joanna, whose primary goal in going to the gym is to see how slowly she can petal the stationary bike while listening to her I-Pod. She almost always succeeds. Of course, they don't really have to worry about working out, being size 6 and 8 respectively. Again, I digress.

But I guess the gym really isn't so bad. Perhaps by the time this year is up I'll be skinner. That, or my self-esteem will have taken a sharp nose dive. Either way, it will probably be good for me. You know what's not good for me, though? The crunch machine. My abs are killing me. Seriously, I feel like I have the stomach flu and have been violently ill for the last twenty-four hours. I wonder if this is what those attractive guys feel like all the time, or the girls who have no waist? I feel so bad for them. I think I'll go bake them some brownies.

Update from Arkansas

It's been too long since I've posted on my lonely little blog. Who knows if anybody actually reads this thing, but it's too cathartic for me to give up entirely. I have had time to post on this blog, just not the inclination. I think I've finally settled into my new life in Little Rock, and besides some minor irritations, pretty content with it.

I have found that in ministry it is pretty east to get so busy that you begin to neglect your own personal relationship with God. That's where I've found myself lately. This morning was the first morning in a few weeks in which I actually had more than just obligatory devotions (which are really no devotions at all). Conviction abounded today in many areas of my life. It is so easy to ignore the Holy Spirit, scarily easy. But conviction is one of God's greatest grace to His children. There are a lot of ares in my life that are not lining up with how God says I should live life. When you think about it, you can pray for me. My relationship with God is so much more important than any "ministry" that I could contribute to this world. What's that verse in John? "This is eternal life, that they may know You, the one true God." Yeah, that should be what my life is about - knowing God.

Well, I think I've found the church, my church, the church that I want to invest in while I'm living in Arkansas. The church is a plant of the PCA, and they meet in a cute little refurbished building in downtown Conway. The congregation is only about forty all told. On mnight I went to a ladies small group where they discuss the sermon and pray for each other. The other ladies (5) are all married, so we're in different seasons in life, but they were so warm and welcoming, honest and transparent, that I felt immediately at home. They prayed for me, and loved on me, and made me laugh so throughly that I couldn't help but fall a little bit in love with them. I'll be having lunch with the pastor and his wife soon, where I hope to borrow from his vast library (when she heard I was a theology nerd his wife commanded me not to buy anymore books because "Kevin has all you would ever want to read!"), and hear his Biblical basis for infant baptistm.

I'm still trying to figure out why God has me here. Is that strange? I feel privileged to be here, working toward the spread of the gospel, but sometimes other desires get in the way. I'm praying that God will be all of my desire and delight. God is so good to me. I just need to remember that He cares about my holiness and joy in Him, more than in the fleeting comforts I find so important.

That's all for tonight, folks. Goodnight, y'all!

Brave

Well, tomorrow morning (Lord willing) I leave for Little Rock. My little blue Saturn will be stuffed to the gills with things that constitute a life, or at least, my life. As I was thinking of all the things I might possibly miss when I go to Little Rock, the "things" that stand out in my mind are, of course, not things, but people. I will miss my family and friends most of all. I will miss relationships.

This morning in my devotions I asked the Lord what He might possibly want me to learn from this year, or what the "theme" might be, that is, the one prevailing lesson He wants to teach me above everything else. What sprung most readily to mind was relationships. First, to Him, and then to others. I think this will be easy, and extremely difficult at the same time.

Difficult because most of the time my heart is not naturally bent towards Him, or others. I am, we are as humankind, completely interested in serving our own interests. Easy, because I love people, and get energy from being around them. But really, relationship building is quite arduous, don't you think? It's risky, being vulnerable to another human being, knowing they might reject you, but knowing the risk is ultimately worth it. Even if they reject you, even if your heart is broken by them in the end.

Was it Lewis that said the only place we can be safe from the perturbations of love is hell? Yes, I think it was, and yes, he is right. Sometimes relationships can feel like hell; I have found this to be true in the last few years. But I also know they can make you feel whole and alive. No one was made to be a loner, we were made to be in community, with God first, and others second.

And so here I am, the biggest loner I know, quite content to be by myself, or with people with whom I already enjoy a deep and abiding relationship, ready to be the perpetual stranger. My friend Karen said I should just pretend to be everybody's best friend. I think she's right, because I've already seen it work. Plus, I have the advantage of being the new girl. I need help, and most people are willing to help.

This morning I was in communication with my new boss. I told him about a proposed project that could yield great results, but would cost time and money. "Do it" he said, no hesitation. Risk-takers, and I wouldn't consider myself one at all, are incredibly motivating. They make me want to be brave, like that song:

So long, status quo, I think I just let go,

You make me want to be brave....

This song references God as the one who makes us want to be brave though, and indeed He does.

This position with CEF involves a lot of unknowables. But I am trusting that God will guide me step-by-step, and "as my days, so shall my strength be". I'm ready to take risks, like I never have before. I could be a miserable failure in others' eyes, but the great thing about God is that He doesn't call me to success, but He calls me to Himself, to relationship. This is our God, the God of relationship. He makes me want to be brave. He makes me want to worship, and be in community, and love, and fight, and get my hands dirty. I have just this one life, after all; it's time to start living it for the glory of God.

A Hulme Family Story

I spent last weekend with my family in Springfield.

We convened there in order to celebrate my little sister, Sarah's, birthday. I drove into Springfield tired and worn after my week in Little Rock and was met by my family who had already been there for several hours. My other little sister, Jessie, and her husband, the ever-accommodating Rich, recently moved to Springfield after their June wedding, and this was the first time we had all been there together. We had a great time of hanging out, eating delicious food, laughing, watching movies, and just being with each other, which is usually enough for all of us. We slept in late and then had brunch. After brunch, Rich suggested we all go to the park and play Ultimate Frisbee.

We stared at him in disbelief as one collective body of uncoordinated individuals.

My poor brother-in-law. He's such a great guy, very patient and loving and considerate, but he doesn't seem to know the Hulme family secret: we don't DO sports. Ever. I spoke up and said what a great idea, and let's do it! I, of course, was the last one ready to walk out the door. But walk out the door we did, armed with various frisbees and with our "game face" on.

As we pulled up to the park, we all noticed the playground. Swings!

Although our excitement for the game was momentarily overshadowed by the playground, we soon grew tired of that activity and began the game, which lasted for about ten minutes. I think the problem consisted in the fact that we didn't know how to play the game; "we" being the females of the family. Earlier, we had insisted that the game consist of boys against girls, and because the boys ultimately had no choice, that's how it ended up. Me, Jessie, Sarah, and Maggie, against Rich, Joel, Sam, and Joseph. I think another reason the game was so short-lived was because Rich is about two hundred feet taller than the rest of us. At one point I heard him say to Sam, "oh, let's just give them the point", this after the boys had scored three points and the girls still weren't sure which goal was ours.

It would have been funny if it weren't so sad.

The girls were the first to abandon ship. We straggled over to a tall tree and sprawled in it's plentiful shade. Rich and Sam (the most athletic Hulme) continued to toss the frisbee back and forth for a little while, but ultimately joined us, as did my mom and the dog, who had been off exploring the park grounds together. Jessie asked Rich if he was disappointed that we didn't play the game for very long (or very well, for that matter). Rich just smiled and said "I would have been disappointed if I had expected you to play".

Well, there you go.




The Hulme family, in all of our un-athletic glory. I still love us.

Worth

Currently I am trying to recover from my Little Rock '09 adventures. I have been back in St. Louis for less than twenty-four hours. I just want to sleep and process everything that I didn't have a chance to dwell on during the busy, busy time I spent in Arkansas. However, I still have a week left in my contract with CEF of Greater St. Louis and a VBS to teach tonight. I hope the children don't mind zombie teachers.

No, I don't think it's that bad, but I do think I need more than one day to recover from not only Little Rock, but this summer in general. I spent a few hours this morning in God's Word, something that I neglected during my week in Little Rock. Shameful, I know, but God is merciful and He still taught me a few lessons that I really needed to learn while in Little Rock.

One lesson that I learned was worth. That is, what am I basing my worth on? God taught me rather all at once one day that my worth comes from Jesus Christ, not my job, ministy, relationship status, place of residence, etc. Those are details in which I live out my relationship with Christ. I don't believe those details are unimportant to God, but I do believe that those details are sometimes too important to me.

Recently I've been studying the life of Saul and David as portrayed in 1 Samuel. Both of these men fell into gross sins, but David was a man after God's own heart and Saul was cast away. Why? Romans 8 seems to be the best answer: if God is for us, who can be against us? Not because of who I am or what I do, but because of God's own free sovereign choice in placing me in Christ Jesus am I in right standing before Him and can have confidence that I am His and will remain His. So then the most important thing in my life is not all of those details, but my relationship with God through Jesus Christ.

On the last night of our time together in Little Rock the president of CEF, Reese Kaufmann, spoke on this very thing and I knew it was God's reminder to me that really, Little Rock is simply a detail, not the Destination. I was thankful for this reminder, because it is something that God has been teaching me through this process of going into full-time ministry with CEF once again. CEF and any ministry that might result from my work in this organization shouldn't give me my ultimate sense of worth or value (and neither should anything else). I am God's through Jesus Christ and that relationship is what gives me my ultimate worth.

There is freedom there. Freedom that God calls me to walk in as I trust His sovereign ordering of the details and circumstances of my life. I am tired, and well should be, of making the circumstances of my life ultimate. This is a hard lesson to learn and one I'm sure I'll forget from time to time. But I serve a faithful, merciful God that is for me and will be faithful and merciful to remind me. Today my heart overflows with gratitude to Him.

Little Rock '09

I'm currently surrounded by about one hundred full-time, part-time, and volunteer CEF workers. They have descended for two weeks on the city for the summer outreach that is Little Rock '09. CEF is targeting key cities across the United States every summer from here until, well, until every major city has on-going ministry to their children. Last year they ministered in Chicago and left behind a full-time worker named Kathy. This year is Little Rock and they are leaving me behind to continue the work.

There is something so sweet about being surround by like-minded people, and humbling as well. Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit several club sites and meet people from the churches I'll be working with in the fall. I am already in love with the people of Little Rock. Sunday I spent most of the day with representatives from two major African-American churches in Little Rock and I just loved them. Little Rock is surprisingly urban. In fact, there was a debate (still on-going) as to whether I should be allowed to travel by myself to club sites because I am a "white girl in gangland". I voted yes, but male leadership voted no. We'll see.

This week we have upwards of twenty-fve teams each teaching three 5-day Clubs a day. Yesterday we had over one thousand children attend clubs with fifty salvations. There are some hurting kids in Little Rock. Please keep us in your prayers, and thanks to everyone who prayed (and is praying) that I'll survive this time, now and throughout the year. By God's grace, I think I'm going to make it.

I Left My Heart in Little Rock?

This week is our urban focus week for 5-day Clubs. Loosely translated this means I'm kickin' it in the 'hood with my summer missionaries. We've already had a fabulous time teaching together this week; I really love St. Louis and the people here. However, a huge part of me wants to be down in Arkansas right now for Little Rock '09 which began last night. I leave on Friday morning (as early as I can without it actually being Thursday night).

I am just so anxious to start this ministry and meet the people who will consume so much of my life for the next year. Also, I've heard from CEF family already there about how great Little Rock is and it makes me even more anxious to experience it for myself! This is a wonderment to me though - everyone keeps telling me how Little Rock is going to steal my heart. Do they know something I don't? Perhaps I'll have to change the name of this blog once I get down there...

One More Month: The Countdown Begins

One month from today I'll start my adventures in Arkansas! Seriously, I can't wait. I had dinner with a friend last night and as I shared with her the ways that I have seen God led me through this whole process I just had to shake my head in amazement. God is so much better to me than I deserve. I always struggle with that notion, but I know I'm building the argument on a false premise: I have never deserved good things, only death. The gifts that I enjoy and often take for granted are gifts of grace purchased for me by the death of Jesus and applied by the Holy Spirit. "Nothing in my hand I bring, simply to Thy cross I cling."

It's been a rough couple of months for me spiritually and emotionally. I spent most of yesterday packing away my belongings into boxes and dividing them into piles - what will stay and what will go. I feel like I need to do the same thing spiritually - what will stay in my life and what needs to be exhumed and thrown away. My heart gets so cluttered, so quickly, with non-essentials. Even last night I had to repent for allowing other things besides God's Word to be the final authority in my life and dictate how I behave - my circumstances, relationships with friends and family, even good books that I read (yes, Karen, I could be admitting that I love John Piper too much!).

I need to fall in love with my Bible again and take time to mediate and pray over it. I need to realize that I won't miss anything if I take the time to make God and His Word the ultimate priority - and authority - in my life. In fact, He's guaranteed it.

Side note: Earlier I linked to this website and it made me cry and cry. I was inspired and convicted by their (particularly Larissa's) perseverance in prayer and willingness to submit to God's will whatever the outcome - even if He doesn't answer their prayers in the way they desperately hope He will. It reminded me that sometimes God calls you to stand for a very, very long time.

Adventures in French Cooking

Recently I've been reading a book called My Life in France by Julia Child. This has cultivated in me a deep desire to move to France and spend my days cooking and wandering around the streets of Paris saying things like "eh bein, tant pis" accompanied by deep sighs and graceful hand gestures. Of course it is quite impossible for me to do this. So instead of becoming depressed by an unfulfilled dream, I decided to live the la bella France way of life here in the States.

First, you start with a good friend and a bottle of wine.

An official recipe by the venerable Julia Child.

A few pounds of onions. Lots and lots of onions.

After cutting up the onions and shoving them as best you can into a large pot, add wine, butter (Julia Child would never use margarine!), beef stock, and a few cloves of garlic. Reduce and cook for an hour of so, ladle into bowls, and sprinkle liberally with shredded Jarlsberg cheese. There you have it: a delicious authentically French meal.

Put on a good movie (or documentary of a crazy nun, as the case may be) and give the rest of the wine to the little black doggie.

I can't think of a better way to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon!

Drive by

Last week I supervised a few summer missionaries teaching a 5-day Club on a street called Cates in North St. Louis. I loved this club and particularly the neighborhood where the club was held. Today I learned there was a drive by shooting a few yards from where the club was held. Wow! I am so thankful that the gospel was preached there. So very, very thankful.

Backsliding

Well, I'm back to my Facebook habit.

I blame this backsliding on my friend Karen who allowed me to view her Facebook page this weekend and on my friend Joanna who refused to e-mail me her funny Egypt stories.

I think I need an intervention with Sister Helen.

Little Boys

My little brother Joel turns sixteen today. I can hardly believe it. I still remember him as a little bitty guy with a head full of blond curls and a mischievous grin on his pink-cheeked face. At night he would follow me around the house in his little footy pajamas until I gave him his bedtime "baba" (bottle). His giggle of delight made me giggle.

Now his voice is too deep to giggle and he doesn't follow me around the house anymore but just opens the refrigerator door and drinks milk straight from the carton. When I stand next to my teenage brothers and their friends I feel dwarfed. Things have turned around and I miss my younger siblings as babies. Most of my teenage years were spent with one or the other of them on my hip. Now they are teenagers themselves and a lot of the fun of care giving is over and done. I made chocolate chip cookies last night and this morning I found my brothers and their friend standing around the plate rapidly inhaling them, passing the jug of milk back and forth to fill their glasses (at least some semblance of civility, right?). It gave me a deep kind of pleasure.

Yesterday afternoon while talking with a little boy named Jamel at a 5-day Club in the city, I had the distinct joy of seeing his beautiful face break into a wide grin: I had just told him how glad I was to see him. He then recited his memory verse to me with a look for supreme concentration before joining the other boys for a game. As club started I observed the neighborhood. Men who use to be little boys walked by and stared. I sat and wondered what kind of little boys they had been, and then wondered what kind of men they had turned into. Did they love Jesus? Judging by their behavior, probably not. What a waste. Is this what Jamel has to look forward to?

I feel a deep burden for the boys in my clubs and my church and my family. I want them to grow up loving Jesus with all their hearts. So many, many men do not. But then again, I know a few men - good and godly men - who do. I am thankful for the men who take seriously the difficult task of loving Jesus with all their heart. It gives me hope to keep on praying and loving and baking chocolate chip cookies for all the men in my life who are still on the way.

Sacred Places

Note: I wrote this post a month ago, but today seemed like a good day to post it.

I think it was Emily Dickinson who said "my friends have made my life". I have found this to be so in my own life. My friends bring color and vitality to what at times can prove to be a menial existence. One of my favorite life-experiences is Bible study with "the girls" headed up by Darlene McDonald, whom I consider to be my spiritual mom. I have grown up in her house as much as my own and her family has proven to be invaluable to my growth as a human being. God has blessed me time and time again through them.

Anyway, I wanted to record a little picture diary of Bible study for when I am far, far away in Arkansas. I also wanted to share with anyone who happens to read this blog the fun we have studying the lives of saints and sinners, men and women, husbands and wives, and Jesus. I also think it will be good for those who are even now far, far away (Lauren, Adrienne, Lydia, and Sarah - we miss you!) to remember their time there fondly.

This is one of many entrances to the "Secret Garden", so dubbed by Mrs. McDonald. The best Bible study always happens here!

Delightful surprises abound in Mrs. McDonald's garden. I don't quite know how she does it, but she is a master homemaker. I always like to observe the little touches that make her house a home.

Bible study gets underway as Stephanie brings the treats! Mrs. McDonald is a wonderful hostess. I don't ever remember a time I felt out of place or unwelcome in her home. She always makes sure we have lots of delicious treats on which to snack!

Mrs. McDonald teaches. She probably doesn't like this picture much, but it was the only one I had of her and I had to include it for when I am somewhere deep in the recesses of Arkansas!

Joanna and Allison look on as Mrs. McDonald teaches. Joanna looks slightly perturbed because I had been trying to induce her to smell some fresh dill I had just picked from the garden. One of my favorites activities during Bible study is the time we take to exchange prayer requests. Last month Joanna's prayer request was that I would stop harassing her with dill.

This cow has been a staple of the McDonald's backyard since before I can remember. I have always harbored a secret desire to get married in their backyard with this cow looking on.

I don't know if you can read what it says on this rock, found nestled in the Secret Garden, but the reference is from Isaiah 58. I think Mrs. McDonald has been a living testimony of these verses:

"And if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom will become like midday. And the LORD will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail."

Yes, some of my better memories have been made in the Secret Garden. It is a sacred place.

Missionary Life

I am feeling very stressed out today. I hold in my hand twenty-four ounces of pure caffeine with massive amounts of sugar thrown in for good measure. Yes, this was an ill-advised decision, but the only one that made sense as I drove to my recently vacated townhouse this morning in order to beg the next-door neighbor to sign for a very important package the UPS man has already attempted to deliver twice. Thankfully she agreed, although now she's probably a little scared of me. Good thing I don't live here anymore! Now if I can just get people to stop sending me stuff here...

I'm supposed to be having a day off. This is truly laughable as I have been even busier today than I would normally be in the office. I need to do a six hour Bible study on support raising in the next hour and a half (I wonder if this is feasible?) before I pick up my little brother from aforementioned office and travel to Illinois to teach a 5-day Club in the home of a truly delightful elderly lady. She wanted to give them a special treat for the last day of club today and so she invited a puppet troupe from her church to entertain the kids after club. I hate puppets, but I love her, and so I will endure them, although I will be laughing in my heart (and possibly out loud, as well).

Yesterday I suffered through the indignities of watching one of the children in the club take off his sandal, hold his foot against his face and take a big long sniff before replacing his sandal, waiting a minute...and then doing it again! All this while I was teaching the Bible lesson. It was almost unbearable for me to watch. I kept praying: "Lord Jesus! Help me! Now!". After club I sat in my car alternately laughing and groaning. Oh, the life of a missionary!

Well, that's all for now. Please pray for me. Most of all pray that I won't offend the puppet troupe, and that the delightful little foot-sniffing boy will keep his shoes on today. I don't know if my fragile mental state can bear a repeat performance.

All the News Worth Hearing

Posting on this blog is so far down my to-do list I can hardly see it. However, since it gives me pleasure to write, and because I need to sort out my thoughts a little bit, I thought I would update today. Currently, this is all the news worth hearing in my life...

The target date for beginning my year of service in full-time ministry is August 17th. By then I will be ensconced in a big blue farmhouse somewhere near the city limits of Little Rock. Since I last gave a "real" update, my support level has increased by $10,000 thanks to a generous donation by CEF of East Texas. I am currently entrenched in the whole support raising process and it is progressing well. It is laughable to say I know God wants me in Little Rock with all the evidence to support this claim. I feel so unworthy of all that has been done on my behalf precisely because I have been dragging my feet throughout the whole process.

As I talked with a ministry represenative from CEF she commented on what an "enviable" position I am in within the ministry of CEF. I know it to my very core. I have unsuccessfully raised personal support and unsuccessfully taken myself off the field because of it. God has been gracious - more than I deserve or dared to imagine - in pursuing me for service in missions. Ministry has always been my heart, but I had wanted it to be outside the confines of full-time service. This is apparently not what God wants, and He has been so gracious in bringing me back, much like a prodigal, to the place He wants me to be. I have also found, like the prodigal, a fattened calf, and wide-open arms from my family in the ministry. These are all things I do not deserve.

Have I made that clear? My just desserts are not what I am receiving. I say this as much to remind myself as to share with you. I am slowly learning to serve Jesus, not so He will serve and love me, but because He already has served and loved me. I have had this backwards for most of my life. I do not know how long God intends for me to be in full-time ministry with CEF or any other organization, I only know that I cannot imagine spending my time on anything other than eternity.

Unmistakable

So much has happened in the last few days regarding Little Rock that I wish I had the time to write it all down! We are in the home stretch of CYIA training though, and with just a few more days to go I haven't the strength or the power of concentration to organize any rational thought. I can't wait to get home and get a few dozen hours of sleep so I can begin to communicate effectively, process, and yes - finally - pack!

I have felt at times that I had made a terrible mistake in agreeing to this assignment and wondered in the back of my mind if it would really happen. My fervor for the call to Arkansas has been lukewarm at best, but as God is changing my heart He is heating the fire and most wondrous to see: moving my circumstances in ways only He can; it is so unmistakable.

Updates Galore!

I leave for CYIA training tomorrow morning, and although I am a bit frantic as I finish up last minute details, I thought it was time for an update. A week ago I received a phone call from CEF World Headquarters informing me that there had been a change in initial plans and that, in my case, the process from support raising had been greatly accelerated. Of course the story is more detailed than that, but I haven't the time, and you probably don't have the inclination to read every agonizing detail.

I've been in contact with the state coordinator of Arkansas, and the target date now is September 1st. I'm a little freaked out and have asked the Lord to reveal the big support raising "plan" He has for me. I subscribe to the George Muller method of raising support, which, more or less, is to make the opportunity known, and wait on the Lord to move the hearts of the people to give. I believe this is biblical, and God's will for me (which is not to say that other methods are not also biblical and that God may lead other people to other methods).

In the past few years God has allowed me to try this out, and to see His faithfulness displayed over and over again. It takes a lot of patience though. Oh, I believe God will supply, there is no question in my mind on that point, but the "when" drives me absolutely nuts (why, oh why, did I ever read George Muller's autobiography?! Ignorance is indeed bliss). It's good for me, however, because it allows me to see that I am not God, that I am dependent on Him for everything, and that I can do without a lot of things I really thought I needed. Basically, it exalts God's sovereignty and keeps me in my happy place.

Already I've seen this played out in regards to Little Rock. I've told people about the opportunity and have seen them step forward, with no solicitation on my part, and offer their support. This has greatly blessed me and seems to be confirmation that I'm headed in the right direction. But, three months to raise something over $20,000? It is, no doubt, very possible with God, but is this what He will do? I'm not sure, but I have begun to pray towards this date, along with the people in charge of the Little Rock project, and would welcome you to do the same.

Even though at this point I don't know how much longer I'll be in St. Louis, I do know I can't renew another year-long lease at the townhouse, so I'm moving back to my mom's house for the summer. It is a great blessing, to be sure, but I'm a little sad (okay, actually a lot sad) that I can't stay in my cozy little townhouse with my fantastic roommates. Last night my brothers and Aaron came over and packed up all of my worldly possessions, shoved them into my mom's van, and drove them off to storage. I didn't cry then, but later on, when I was alone in my now desolate room, I let the tears flow. Frankly, I am tired of moving all over creation and I wonder what lesson God is possibly trying to teach me in all of this.

Well, this post is running on. Quick run-down of my life right now: moving, CYIA, little sister's wedding smack in the middle of the two weeks of training, support raising for Little Rock, summer ministry in St. Louis. I'm busy, but I'm happy; this is a great time in life.

Uh, oh...

One of the highlights of my weekend was a conversation with a complete stranger about my upcoming move to Arkansas. I was at my little sister's bridal shower when a friend of my sister approached me and in a soft southern accent asked me if I was the one moving to Arkansas. I replied affirmatively and she introduced herself and told me she had grown up in Arkansas and that her husband was from Paris. I briefly wondered whether there was any chance she meant the European city, but before I could ask she said "Arkansas. Paris, Arkansas". Ah.

I began to ask her questions and found out three things. First, Arkansas is humid. When she said this I smugly stated that I had lived in Missouri most of my life and I was use to humidity. She gave a polite little laugh and told me she always found it so humorous when Missourians complained about the humidity.

Uh, oh...

The next thing I learned was that this particular lady really liked the people of Arkansas but had also always felt like one needed a "passport" to visit. "People do have their little quirks" she said, or something like. She gave me the impression, in her sweet southern manner, that I could be in for a culture shock.

Uh, oh...

The last thing I learned was that Little Rock is not a city. I learned this by asking her to compare the size of Little Rock to the size of St. Charles County, where I have spent most of my life. St. Charles County won. Now, St. Charles County is a large county, but in my opinion it should beat any place labeled a city.

Uh, oh...

As I begin to assimilate information related to the new place God is leading me to I find all sorts of things that confront and assault my natural inclinations. Of this, however, I am very sure: God knows what He is doing, and I feel a huge sense of anticipation and excitement. I think this is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, replete with "uh, oh" moments, of course, but with the threads of God's grace and favor all woven through. He is a good God and I am sure that he "has prepared me for this very thing".

Goodbyes

This weekend's big event was my little sister's high school graduation. The St. Charles County Home Educators like to celebrate with not a little pomp and circumstance and the ceremony was quite serious. As you can imagine, about halfway through the festivities I got a little antsy and began a quest to make Sarah laugh as she sat among the fifty or so other graduates on stage. My mission was successful as I saw her hiding a smile behind her hand. Sarah and I are pictured below after she was officially deemed a high school graduate. Funny, I remember the day she was born!


Anyway, I guess I have to be a little more careful about my antics as one of the homeschooling moms at our church (and mother of one of this year's CYIAers) caught me in the hall in church on Sunday and told me she noticed my little show from her vantage point in the seat behind me. My only plea was the fact that everyone was way too serious and, for pity sakes', it was only high school, and also, didn't she think they had such a long way to go? She laughed and her husband beside her looked as if he quite agreed with me. I like them. They're from the East Coast.

I enjoyed my weekend way too much as today I am so tired my eyes hurt! I am, however, glad to be back to the routines of work. The pleasures of a long weekend would be greatly diminished if there was no work from which to rest! It was hard saying goodbye to a few of my kids this afternoon. Tomorrow is our last official day together, but some of them left the program today. A little kindergartner would not stop hugging me on her way out the door and I had to pry her off of me and tell her she must stop hugging me or "Miss Jeanne will start crying". Most of them know I won't be back next year and my ego is pleased that they all seem disappointed. I don't know how I got so attached to this particular set of kids so fast (or they to me), but I sure did.

Well, there is always more to be said but enough is a good as a feast. Goodnight!

Sinners and Ice Cream

I'm sitting in my cubicle at the CEF office, silently willing the clock to move faster. Only a few more hours and I can officially start my weekend. Yesterday morning at 6:15 I was in the local market picking up gallons of ice cream and ice cream cones for this afternoon. It's ice cream day at school and the kids will be wildly excited, especially since they have no idea.

I like to do things like that every once in awhile just see the delighted expressions on their funny little faces. I am becoming more and more convinced that children are sinners. I mean, theologically I knew they were, but now I know experimentally. I keep telling my little charges what bad kids they are. I don't think they quite believe me though, and it seems my pronouncement of their vileness does little to dissuade them from the right belief that I still love them in spite of it. This is probably a good thing.

I wonder what kind of parent I will make? Probably a really poor one. As I experience more of God the Father I can't help but compare my faulty "parenting" style with His perfect one. For one thing, I am not patient, and I find I have to constantly remind myself to temper my discipline with gentleness. We all need a little (or a lot) of mercy sometimes and, what do you know, a gentle answer really does turn away wrath. They are still sinners, and they need Jesus to change their evil little hearts, but my responses are getting better (I hope) and in return, their responses are better. I pray that Jesus saves each one of them, though; behavior modification only works up to a certain point.

Anyway, we need ice cream today, like nobody's business. It's hot as a mug here (what does that expression even mean?) and with only one and a half more days of school left, we need a diversion if we're going to make it to the end. So ice cream, a few dozen hugs, probably some tears and fights and "Miss Jeanne, he took my legos!", and then, goodbyes, and have a nice weekend, and walking out the door, and freedom!

Lesser Things

Good news: this week does appear, finally, to have an ending. I am looking forward to the weekend with anticipation. I came across this quote today and felt inclined to share. No one says it better than Pipes!

"Fight for us, O God, that we not drift numb and blind and foolish into vain and empty excitements. Life is too short, too precious, too painful to waste on worldly bubbles that burst. Heaven is too great, hell is too horrible, eternity is too long that we should putter around on the porch of eternity."

John Piper

Oh, the temptation to waste life on lesser things. I look forward to glorifying God now and in all eternity by enjoying Him for Himself and in the gifts He has given. Like salvation through Jesus alone, and the weekend!

This week...

...will never end!