The Refiner’s Fire

{I just wrote this in my journal this morning, but felt I should share it here too. It’s all by His grace. Without Him, I am nothing.}

It’s been a month now since Jill fell and broke her arm. And it has been a hard, hard month. Of course there have been good moments and times when I have felt God’s blessings….but most of the time I have been stressed and/or frustrated.

I know that’s not the right response. I know I’ve got to trust GOD to work all things for Good and to {help me} live each moment righteously through Him….but my flesh so so so easily takes charge, I try to do it on my own, and I usually end up so angry that I’m nearly shaking {when things go wrong, when things happen that are outside of my control}.

Abba Father! I come to You because there is nowhere else to go. Abba, if there’s one thing I’m being confronted with every day here, it is that I am not in control. Father, I confess that my hunger for control is sin. It’s pride. It’s evidence of a failure to trust You.

God, I spent months {last year} asking You to break me, to strip away everything from my life that was not of You. I can feel the heat of the fire, Refiner of my soul. I can feel it and I want so badly to run away, to escape it.

Abba Father! Please don’t let me go! Please don’t let me pull away from Your sanctifying grasp. Abba, I beg You, please keep me – no, please make me to be humble and soft before You, my Master and my King of Glory.

For God, You are Good! And Father, I am thankful. Even though my flesh quivers as I write that….I am thankful to You. I thank You and praise You for Your grace, Your patience with my frail stumblings.

Jesus, You are the Christ. You alone have eternal life. And so, no matter what, help me soul to trust in You.

There is nowhere else—no one else to whom—I would rather turn.

Satisfy me in every moment with Your love, Your peace, Your grace. May Your indestructible Joy be my only strength.

For Your glory alone.

                Amen.

{As I finish typing this in and prepare to get ready for the day, I don’t want to leave this moment, this place of my soul. Because I know that there will be trials and temptations in this day, probably before I even reach the office and get this posted before starting work. And I forget so easily! But those next steps of physical life must be taken, and it’s an opportunity to trust God and to put my faith into practice. That’s how our Creator made life work. But He is also always there to turn to in prayer each moment. Live through me, Abba.}

The Best of All Possible Worlds

A card from one of my special ladies back home that "just happened" to arrive yesterday, and that I opened this morning after writing this post :)

I actually woke up ahead of my alarm today. These cool, foggy mornings we have been having here in Uganda recently always make me think of Arkansas and miss my “family” there.

On Monday, I was thinking of other things from back in my college days….and yesterday the thoughts kept tumbling around in my brain….so this morning I am sitting down to put “pen to paper” and break my blogging silence.

In the past 11 months that I have been affiliated with New Hope Uganda, the organization has gone through a lot. In my most recent newsletter, I wrote asking people for prayers as we here seem to be in the midst of spiritual warfare. Thank you to each one who responded back with words of encouragement! I really appreciated those.

Yesterday, we saw off one of our staff members. This year she has been battling cancer, and last month (two days after we lost a son to kidney failure) she was declared cancer free! But then other health concerns arose, and more tests revealed tumors….inoperable tumors, which are seriously affecting her quality of life. Yesterday she returned to Nairobi (Kenya), where she had previously received radiation, for further tests and care.

In my personal life, the past 18 months since graduation have rarely gone as I expected them to. Every season seems to bring another bend in the road, sometimes sending me on a trajectory I never expected. While I am so blessed and grateful to have the opportunity to minister here in this community, it was honestly never in my plans to move to Africa for most of 2014.

During these past months, there have been a myriad of frustrations and discouragements. While none of them come close to the struggles of so many of my brothers and sisters, it has still been often challenging to maintain a proper perspective—eyes fixed on Christ—in these times. Over and over, I have felt His call to trust Him and surrender my life to His plan….and maybe, just maybe I am “slowly by slowly” learning that lesson.

On Monday, it was one of my personal minor letdowns which got me to thinking. I was tempted to be in a complaining mood because of something which was not going as I had hoped/wished it might. And I just felt Paraclete speaking to my heart: “Esther, you need to trust God in this. To trust that what is happening is the best plan for all involved.”

It took me back to something a staff member had forwarded the Wednesday before. A week after my supervisor had fallen and broken her arm so seriously that she returned to her home in England for surgery, it was a day when I felt totally overwhelmed. I read this devotional and saw the truth in it, but I still allowed my human circumstances to dictate my feelings.

The devotional concluded:

Remember this: If any other condition had been better for you than the one in which you are, divine love would have put you there. You are placed by God in the most suitable circumstances, and if you could choose your lot, you would soon cry, "Lord, choose my heritage for me, for by my self-will I am pierced through with many sorrows." Be content with the things you have, since the Lord has ordered all things for your good. Take up your own daily cross; it is the burden best suited for your shoulder and will prove most effective to make you perfect in every good word and work to the glory of God. Busy self and proud impatience must be put down; it is not for them to choose, but for the Lord of Love!1

This idea of trusting the God who works ALL THINGS for His glory and our sanctification, our good has been a theme in my life for quite a while. But as I sat thinking and praying through it again on Monday, another comparison came to mind.

Twice in college I read Candide, a satirical tale written by Voltaire, an Enlightenment thinker of the 1700s. In it, Voltaire criticizes a view from that period that this is the “best of all possible worlds” by taking his characters through a ridiculous amount of challenges and suffering. The teacher in the group reiterates over and over that even in the face of everything, this still must be the best of all possible worlds. Even though Candide is a comedy because of the absurdity of what the characters go through, it felt so much more like a depressing tragedy to me, because on every page there are tales of woe.

But on Monday as I thought of trusting God in my petty little problems—and in the bigger, serious concerns facing others I know—that is the line that came back to me. That this is the “best of all possible worlds.” Certainly NOT because everything that happens is perfect! Far from it…there is much hurt and tragedy and brokenness in this world.

This is the best of all possible worlds, however, because of the HOPE that I and my fellow believers have! We serve a God who is an incarnational Redeemer—through Christ, He came down to us in our mess, and He won the victory!!!!!!!!!  And because He rose from the dead, defeating Satan, death, and sin, we can KNOW that He is able to work everything for good. Even the worst situation I can imagine He can take that and turn it for His glory.

Of course, this doesn’t make life easy. Yesterday, as we saw our sister off to Kenya there were tears in many hearts. We prayed and are praying for a miracle. Last month, as we laid our son to rest, there were sobs from his family and those close to him. We continue praying for his widowed mother and his young siblings, who have lost one who could have helped provide for them if he were still here. But through it all, we can choose to stake our confidence in our Redeeming, Victorious Father. And we can thank Him for everything that comes to pass in this, the best of all possible worlds.

---

1 Taken from Morning and Evening by C.H. Spurgeon, revised and updated by Alistair Begg.

A Confession

On Saturday, when all those thoughts that became my previous blog post were rumbling around in my head, I must confess that I was frustrated and angry. I don’t know if it came through to you, my readers—I felt that I was calmer about it when I actually put it all into words—but I know my heart & mind had been vigorously and selfishly decrying the unfairness of it all.

I didn’t fully realize this until I was sitting in church Sunday morning and the sermon “just happened” to be about Asaph and Psalm 73. I sat there listening, and it suddenly hit me that I had been feeling and acting a lot like Asaph, although the circumstances are different. But I was still jealous of others who seem to have a better life. Questioning why they get it good while I have to give up more to follow where God is leading me.

Even on Saturday, the Lord had opened my eyes to the selfishness of my attitude, as I wrote about at the end of my post. In light of what our Savior did, I am sacrificing nothing. But the sermon on Sunday showed me even more clearly the trap I had fallen into, and it pointed out that nothing in this life tells the full story.

I was questioning God “why?” again, based on what I see in the physical reality. And that’s wrong on two counts. One, I don’t have a right to ask God why He acts in the way He does. Two, judging things based on what happens in this life is like judging a book by its cover alone. In the light of eternity, I am beyond blessed simply because I am a child of the King. That should be more than enough satisfaction for me.

And so I have a new verse to remember, to keep me perspective right:

But it is good for me to draw near to God;
I have put my trust in the Lord GOD,
That I may declare all Your works.

Psalm 73:28

Trust God and declare His goodness: that is to be sufficient for me.

I Know Nothing of Sacrifice

{Warning – this is a rant that has been coming on for a while.}

In three weeks, I’ll be getting on a plane to go back to the bush of Uganda, and I couldn’t be more excited to do it! Yes, there will be luxuries and conveniences that I will certainly miss…but I will also get to see friends again, and I will get to be joining a ministry which seeks to help kids know the Fatherhood of God by experiencing it through us.

Sometimes, though, the thoughts—thoughts of what I’m leaving behind, thoughts of what I’m missing out on—are challenging to accept.

The other day, I received an email from a friend making a referral of a job possibility for me. When I first read the email, I didn’t think too much of it. I am committed to Uganda for at least 14 months, and I am eager to fulfill that commitment, especially because I am confident Kasana is where God is leading me!

But last night, when I opened up an email to let the person know I wasn’t available, it hit me more. Here was a job opportunity. A “real,” “big-girl” job. One in my degree field. One that would—I assume—allow me to provide for myself financially….to be fully independent for the first time since graduation.

In some ways, it was very tempting. It was a moment where I had to let go of my desire to be self-sufficient on my own. A moment where I had to once again trust God’s leading…trust Him to provide for me as I go into this place where I will be 100% counting on the support and donations of friends.

Today, I sent the email refusing the job opportunity, and there was no serious hesitation in that choice. But it did get me thinking.

Because it feels so unfair. It seems as though I am sacrificing a lot to go where I will have intermittent electricity and internet. Where there is no air conditioning other than the breeze. Where my freedom to move about will be somewhat hampered by basic safety concerns. Where there are no washing machines, dryers, microwaves, or dishwashers. Where I must count on people’s generosity for everything.

This is especially true when I think about other bigger missions organizations I know about which pay their staff members comfortable incomes. My mind goes to at least one “non-profit” whose president and handful of VPs each make six-figure annual incomes. Yes, they do good, good work. But how many MORE people could they help if those organizational leaders chose to live more modest lives?

We Americans think—I so often think—that we/I “deserve” a certain standard of living. We have a huge sense of entitlement that honestly is a bunch of bologna.

One job I applied for last fall here in the States probably would have paid me more in one year than some of my friends in Uganda—the better employed ones!—could dream of making, even if they worked for 50 years (in a country where the life expectancy is 58). I can go to a fast food place here and blow more money on one meal than day laborers there can make in a week.

And when I think of that, it makes me sick. And it makes me realize that I know nothing of sacrifice.

 Sure, in the bush of Uganda I will lack a lot of conveniences. But I will still be living the “good life.” I have friends who live in the village who have no power at all. No Internet, definitely no cable, probably no TV at all. Who probably do not have bathroom facilities. Who probably have to walk a good distance just to fetch water.

I don’t write this so that you will pity them. They don’t need your pity. Many of them know more about living an intentional, communitarian life than most Americans. Relationally, I believe they lead much richer lives. Because when someone has a need, they do what they can to help fulfill it. They care for one another and help bear one another burdens on a daily basis, and it is beautiful to witness.

Earlier today, as I was holding this rant in the recesses of my own mind, a thought struck me.

I definitely do not really know anything of sacrifice. Even my friends in Uganda do not know all there is of sacrifice.

We each know different parts of sacrifice. They know what it is to truly be in want. But they did not choose that station in life, and many of them wish to better their circumstances. For me, I am choosing to give up certain things. But as I said, I will still be living a comfortable life compared to parts of the world. What’s more, I have the certain opportunity to return to my plush, fancy (albeit middle-class) life in America.

But there is Another who knows everything that sacrifice entails. One who gave up the riches of the universe for a peasant’s life—who during His sojourn here did not even have a place to lay His heavenly head.

And that was only the beginning of the Truest Sacrifice.

Because not only was He poor. Not only was He misunderstood and often rejected. Not only was He bound for the first time in eternity by the constraints and weaknesses of a human body. On top of all these—each a sacrifice bigger than any I could possibly make, even if I lost everything and went to live in the poorest streets of the world—On top of all these, He willingly chose to relinquish His right to command angel armies. His right to be worshipped for Who He was. He gave up His very life. For what? For His glory, yes. But it was also for His enemies that He made this sacrifice. For you and me.

Because what do we as human beings actually, truly deserve?

We deserve to be destroyed, to be banished from God’s presence forever. We deserve nothing other than the wrath and judgment of God. This very instant. Every breath any human breathes—the fact that the world still exists and we are alive—is a gift of God’s grace. But the fact that He has made me His own dear child—and that at such a high cost……there are no words for such grace and love.

The innumerable physical luxuries I am enjoying this very moment? Sitting here in my room of a house, with lights, AC, laptop, music, a closet full of clothes, a satisfied stomach, money in my purse, clean from a running water shower…….Those are not things that I deserve. They are gifts. But at worst, they can be horrible distractions.

And as I think of all this, I can’t wait to go back to Uganda. To go back to a place where I am reminded on a daily basis that I must depend on God for the strength to face each moment. Where I am confronted every day with how enormously blessed I am.

What’s more, I’ll be following in the footsteps of my Savior. Not because of how good I am, but because of His grace and mercy at work in my life. And it’s all for His glory, for the sake of His great name.

There’s nothing else to say to that.

God's Grace in my Brokenness

{I wrote this last Tuesday in the rawness of the moment. But I've kept coming back to in my mind...feeling that I should post it here. And so I share it with you, not because it puts me in a good light, but because it shows the Glory and Grace of my heavenly Father, that He would receive one such as me.}

It’s all gonna burn.

I can imagine myself torching my room in a moment of fed-up frustration and watching with a look of smug satisfaction as it all—every bit—gets reduced to ashes.

None of this STUFF lasts into eternity. And yet I’ve spent so so so much time in collecting this stuff. In organizing this stuff. In cleaning this stuff.

And for what end? Because in this stuff I trust? Because in this stuff I hold onto the past? Because this stuff carries my memories?

I’m struck again by the tension of living in the light of eternity vs. being too involved in the perishable things of this life.

It’s all gonna burn.

And as I try to answer the NHICF application question of what motivates me, the tears roll down my face. I reach out a tentative hand

“God, are You there?”

This time, this time at home. It’s supposed to be a time of preparation. It’s supposed to be a time of relating to people here, of reconnecting with them. Of gathering a support team so that I can return to ministry in Kasana.

But I’ve squandered so much. I wake with a headache so many mornings, because of staying up too late, usually binge watching my TV show addiction.

Last night I was watching as I finished cards…but the night before that, when I was up until 2 a.m.? There was no profit there.

“God, I want to stop running.” This is when the tears came. Because it feels like no matter how many times I come to this point, no matter how many times I say this, still I go back.

I am no different than the Israelites. They turn away. They forget the Lord who has done wonders among them. Even when it’s right in their face, still they question and go the way of their own stubborn hearts.

I say I want to go back to be in community with people. I say I want to touch the lives of others.

In the past two months, what have I done?

My life doesn’t start when my feet touch the Ugandan soil once more. My life is NOW.

And those choices I’ve been making NOW to indulge, to relax?

Those have been establishing patterns and addictions.

And yes, idols.

Distractions and stumbling blocks.

I know this. I know it all too well from years of experience.

And still. Still I go back. Still I wander away from the only One who is my root & anchor.

“Abba, please rip out this selfish heart of mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

There’s nothing else to say.

I feel the weakness of my own soul. I know the promises are vain on my lips.

How long until I fall back in? Maybe a week, maybe a day.

But the answer to that first question is yes. Yes, my God is here with me. He kneels beside me in my brokenness. He reaches out to touch my heaving shoulders.

Does He perhaps cry with me in my disappointment and regret?

But He doesn’t want me to stay there.

The broken self-heart turned to Him, yes. But not being stuck in the regret of the past.

Tomorrow is a new day, the next moment is a new opportunity.

And He extends that grace to me once more. Oh, but my heart trembles and fears the thought of taking unrighteous advantage of His grace.

I can do nothing.

I am no one.

But God.

But God offers unto us the resurrection power of Christ.

His work is available to change our hearts—to change my heart.

And each moment, every breath is a new chance to say no to self and yes to His conforming, redeeming work.

Abba, I confess my weakness to You. I confess that I am undeserving of Your grace. And yet I ask for it once again—I know there is no other place to stand. Paraclete, please renew Your Spirit within me. Guide me in Your ways, let me not go down my own selfish path.

Thank You that You can and will. To You be the glory.

{When I came back to my computer from eating lunch, I found this email waiting from a dear sister:

Hey,
I love you Esther Carey. I want to remind you that God's grace is enough today even in our weaknesses and mistakes. There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. (Romans 8:1).
"But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9.
"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." 2 Corinthians 4:7.
I'm telling this to myself too. Trust his power today.

My first thought was “wait, how did she know???” I hadn’t posted anything anywhere, but she spoke exactly the words I needed to hear. Praise the Lord J}

The Lord's Presence

“It may be that the LORD will be with me, and I shall be able to drive them out as the LORD said” (Joshua 14:12b).

This morning, as I read Joshua 14 (about the dividing of the land among the tribes) this verse leapt out at me. I think I’ve either heard a talk on it, or I’ve noticed this when I’ve read the chapter before.

The context is that Caleb is making a request of Joshua. Moses had promised Caleb a particular mountain, because he was one of only two spies who were faithful to God when the 12 spies were sent out from Kadesh Barnea. And now, 45 years later, the time had finally come when Caleb could receive that inheritance.

Caleb was 85 years old. He had spent the first 35+ years of his life as a slave in Egypt. He, with all the other Israelites, had seen God’s power and glory there and at Mount Sinai. He had walked in the Promised Land and seen its bounty. He took God at His word and trusted that God could overcome the Canaanites. But because the people did not, Caleb joined them in their wilderness wanderings for 40 years, until everyone of his generation except for himself and Joshua had died.

And now that they were finally in the land and had, in two major sweeps of conquest, cleared out most of the Canaanites—now it was finally time for Caleb to settle down and enjoy retirement, right?

That’s not what he had in mind.

Instead, he intentionally asked for an area where the people had not yet been driven out:

“As yet I am as strong this day as on the day that Moses sent me; just as my strength was then, so now is my strength for war, both for going out and for coming in. Now therefore, give me this mountain of which the LORD spoke in that day; for you heard in that day how the Anakim were there, and that the cities were great and fortified. It may be that the LORD will be with me, and I shall be able to drive them out as the LORD said” (Joshua 14:11-12).

Even at 85 years of age, Caleb still wanted to carry out the mission which his brethren had rejected 45 years before.

God said that Caleb was His servant, that he had a different spirit in him, and that he had followed God fully. Therefore Caleb would receive an inheritance while the others never set foot in the land (Numbers 14:24).

Reading this today, I couldn’t help but think about my own life. Since the coming of Christ to save and the Holy Spirit’s indwelling, I don’t have to wonder if God is with me. I know He is. But it still takes the same sort of trust and confidence, the same willingness to step out and face challenges that Caleb had.

I want to have a different spirit in me. I want to follow the Lord fully. And this morning, God used this passage to call me back to that, to remind me to be satisfied in Him rather than running away to my own attempts at living this life.

Why Uganda?

{In case you haven’t heard, last month I officially accepted an offer from New Hope Uganda to come serve in the role of assistant sponsorship coordinator at Kasana, Uganda. I plan to return the second week of September. Like other foreign staff, I am responsible for providing my own support.}

A couple weeks ago, after I had sent out a letter to my Uganda updates mailing list about my upcoming return plans, I got a call from a friend & trusted adviser. We chatted for a while, and then she asked me about how God has called me to this particular opportunity, and how He has confirmed that calling.

I didn’t really know what to tell her.

I had waited an entire month from the day I had been offered the position to respond “yes!” even though I knew I wanted to say yes from the moment, sitting in my hut, when I was invited back. I waited, saying I would pray about it. Wanting to be sure. Hoping for a sign.

But if I’m being honest with myself and you, I didn’t really spend dedicated time praying about it, and I hesitated because of fear and distrust. If this is really what God wants me to do, then He’ll make it obvious and plain, right?

The Sunday morning before I responded back to New Hope, as I sat in church, I felt God saying that the choice was up to me. He had set before me an open door, what more did I want? Last fall I had three doors I wanted to go through, and all three ended up closing. Now I wanted to return to Uganda, and God had used His people to open that door. It was my choice to walk through it. I sent my acceptance email.

A couple days after having said “yes!” I found myself second guessing. Thinking about other times over the years when I have set my hand at something, only to have it fall through or not turn out as I wished. And I felt God calling me again to trust Him—even if for some reason I didn’t end up back in Uganda, as I expected to. Rejecting the rising fear, I prayed to Him—choosing to trust whatever He had planned.

After my friend’s inquiry a few days later, I pondered how I would answer the question. I knew I had fallen in love with Uganda and the people I met at Kasana during the first five months of the year. I knew I yearned to go back and be reunited with these friends, to continue growing in relationship with them. But what calling did I have from God?

As I drove around Dallas, running errands, I asked Him—if He wouldn’t mind—for confirmation of what I instinctively felt…of what felt like the obvious “yes” answer to the opportunity.

Waiting at a Half Price Books moments later for a quote on some textbooks I was trying to sell, I perused the newly-discovered clearance section. Looking on the “nature” shelf, my eye fell on a thin booklet. Curious, I pulled it out and read the title: “Black Eagle.” Flipping it open, I saw a map of the western coast of Africa: Ghana and the surrounding countries. A glance at the first page showed that whoever had shelved this book hadn’t paid much attention—it appeared at first glance to be a book of African parables/legends.

Turning forward from the back of the booklet, I read a passage that nearly gave me goose bumps:

“Consider going to Ghana as a missionary when you have completed your education. Ask God to guide you in making your decisions about your future….the American young person considers his own life and God’s will for him…”

It may seem a small thing, especially considering that my plans are toward Uganda, not Ghana. But deep in my heart, I knew. It wasn’t an accident that I had come across the clearance section after using the restroom. It wasn’t an accident that this booklet about the history of Christian missions in Ghana was mistakenly shelved with the books about birds. It wasn’t an accident that it caught my eye, that I turned to that particular page. It was the confirmation God sent in His grace and mercy for even my questioning heart.

And as I have thought about it all in the days since, I can see so many other pointers…so many other heart nudges by which God has led me to this point, even when I didn’t plan for this path a year ago.

• Reading Kisses from Katie in January 2012 – as I wrote in my diary, reading the book about this young lady who moved to Uganda to volunteer made me “want to jump on the next plane to some underprivileged place & start pouring my life into those kids.”
• Listening to missionaries from Africa share at my church during my last semester of college – finding my heart strangely stirred and even being brought to tears at the thought.
• God shutting the doors I wanted open last summer and early fall – I was so very frustrated, but I felt Him asking me to give up my hunger to get a “good job” and live for the American version of “success.”
• God opening the door I wouldn’t have seen: to go to Uganda for five months in a short-term volunteer capacity.
• Getting to meet so many wonderful, encouraging people. God placing them—and the Ugandan kids in the Worcester family—into such a special part of my heart.
• Support from friends back home – and people telling me that somehow, by God’s grace, what I write from there speaks to them too.
• Just a couple days ago, getting an email from a friend I met at Kasana, offering encouragement in my choice to go back.

There have been other moments as well. And though my life the past year has so often felt like a roller coaster, with unexpected twists and turns…I know that God is the one leading and guiding. And so I seek to take one step at a time on this path He has given me, that all the glory may go to Him.

{If you would like to receive more information about my upcoming work with New Hope Uganda, or if you felt led to join me as a prayer or financial partner, please contact me! If you do not have my email address or phone number, you can leave a comment here or Facebook message me.}

{See also this Facebook note about how God has led me to missions}