This song has been stuck re-echoing through my head the past several days, ever since I heard Brandon & Maverick City Music perform it live last Saturday at Life Surge (a "pep rally for Christians" as my mom termed it :)).
To be honest, it's been a challenging month for me.
In my previous post, I talked about the positive anniversary of Jan. 25th, 2011. What I left out mentioning was the negative 4th anniversary of Jan. 24, 2018 the day before. Between that date of my mental breakdown and my departure from Uganda on April 4, I was ..... in limbo I guess. I rarely consciously choose to think about those weeks, because they are still painful memories. But this post is not about that.
As I was saying, it's been a challenging month. BUT GOD. He continues to work, even in the midst of my brokenness, weakness, and failings. And this song has been calling me to shift my perspective from everything that is wrong to the MANY things I can praise God for.
"So I'll throw up my hands and praise You again and again."
Here's the beginnings of a list ... because I need to reinstitute this practice in my life!
Father God's constant love and grace toward me.
Our Savior's faithfulness, that He is gentle and lowly and understands us in our weakness from His 33-ish years of experience with temptation.
Paraclete, using Scripture passages and songs like this to woo back my heart.
Tom's excellent sermon on Sunday at CBC, talking about how the indwelling of Paraclete is the guarantee of our inheritance, the assurance of our salvation.
Life Surge was a really neat event - I had the opportunity to hear Nick Vujicic, Willie Robertson, Priscilla Shirer and other speakers in person. I am definitely glad I went!
I'm *immensely* grateful for my friends, my coworkers, my mentors, my counselor, my doctor, etc! They both support me in spite of my shortcomings, but also call me not to stay in that place. They shoot straight, not coddling me when what I need is a wakeup call.
This week, two negative things happened to my car, and my "Dallas grandpa" had to do a repair of an older fender bender in order for my car to hopefully pass inspection. But I'm grateful to one of the deacons from my church for helping me replace a flat tire Monday night, and to the said adoptive grandpa for working on my car for me yesterday.
On the same note, I'm thankful that the lady whose car I slid into this morning on the way to work is fine and that her car is too. Praying that once she sees that, she won't file anything with my insurance!
I appreciate the book we've been reading for our CBC Young Adults' Group, Gentle and Lowly which I "just happened" to read this morning before heading to work - and which is helping inform the second bullet point.
I'm grateful for my newest coworker, who is also a huge encourager and a great hugger!
Praising God for good sleep recently, that is certainly a blessing!!
As much as I gripe about my weight loss program internally, I'm thankful for the progress being made in that area.
That even when we are under spiritual attack, we can fight from a place of victory ALREADY won!!
For a fun time talking with my "sister" Sarah about her well-written book that she is sharing with me.
I could/should think of many many more things .... but for tonight I think that's enough of a starter :)
In my car, the radio is pretty much always on to 94.9 KLTY, a local Christian station. It feels like in different seasons there's a song that plays every time I get in the car, even if it's just my 10-minute commute to work.
Recently, it's been this song:
Initially, I honestly resented this song a bit. The past three years have been challenging for me spiritually, not something I've usually been willing to rejoice & praise God in. And now, with my upcoming (Lord willing) visit to Uganda, all that heart crud that can usually hide beneath the surface is getting stirred up.
But on my way home from ministry group (church small group) this evening, as I got close to my parents' house where I needed to pick up a couple things, this song played again. And this time, Paraclete showered down grace---and I received the song with a heart of hope. As I listened to this song, I found myself hoping and praying. I found myself begging God, "Please let me see that song be true in my life next month!"
But then I wondered why I felt like I needed to beg God for that and plead with Him to make it come to pass. Isn't that exactly what He desires to do, to heal, to redeem?
And so by grace & in faith I intentionally shifted my prayer---"Lord, give me the humility to receive Your healing!" And I knew I needed to dust this blog off and report on what God is doing, the seed He is planting in my heart of positive change.
It's like the chives & hibiscus plant in my garden here at my new place. Last weekend when I went to plant the small hibiscus shrub I had bought several week before, I first cleared the area of weeds, mostly chives that had been allowed to run wild. Or at least I thought I cleared it!!
When I started digging the hole "as deep as and slightly larger than the pot," guess what I found right beneath the surface? A matted, entangled, enmeshed network of chives roots & bulbs. I threw away the top three inches of soil, because I knew I didn't want those roots back in the hole with my poor hibiscus plant!!
The lies I believed They got some roots that run deep
I let em take a hold of my life
I let em take control of my life
The same is true with secreted resentment and bitterness. They're like the chive roots that have already sprung back up all around my hibiscus plant, that parts where I didn't dig those three inches deep to dig them out.
But God.
Standing in Your presence Lord
I can feel You diggin' all the roots up
I can feel Ya healin' all my wounds up
All I can say is hallelujah
Look what You've done
It's my hope and prayer that in the next month, as I spend two weeks with my dearly loved Ugandan sisters (towards whom I hold no hard feelings) and the others (some of whom I have struggled to forgive), that God will do just this.
Will the process be fun? Probably not always.
Will it be worth it? I believe so, definitely.
Please join me in praying the truths of this song over me in the coming four weeks!!!
The first part of this
is something I initially journaled during my commute to work a couple weeks ago.
The latter part fell into place this morning during my extended reflective time
with God.
“Esther, let Me love you.”
Those words from our Triune God have been re-echoing again
and again in my mind since my birthday evening. And Paraclete {my favorite name
for the Holy Spirit} has been helping me realize that, in a way, I don’t even
know how to receive His unconditional love.
So it’s been something I have been praying/meditating about
some. This morning it came back to mind again as I was in my prayer closet, trying
not to fixate on a request I had read that morning via email. Paraclete took me
back, once again, to Jesus’ Valedictory Address {John 13-17} and 1 John.
John 15:9-10 came to mind:
“As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My
love. If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My life, just as I have
kept my Father’s commandments and abide in His love.”
I found myself wishing very much that Jesus hadn’t put that
conditional statement in there!!! Because that’s what ends up becoming a trap
to me, again & again & again—trying to feel like I have earned or
deserve God’s love based on what I DO. It so easily becomes a point of pride
and/or legalism. But there’s another critically important part of that verse! “Just as….”
Jesus’ example and His obedience of the Father are to be our
model! And He doesn’t obey out of fear or because He is trying to earn God’s
love. Jesus obeys because He is in perfect relationship with the Father and
because of all the concepts we read about in Ministry in the Image of God: The Trinitarian Shape of Christian
Service! {The first book we read here as part of the Servant Teams
curriculum – somewhat dense, but really good with lots of practical application
too!}
It’s like the heptapod language—all an interwoven circle.*
So Jesus obeys the Father because He loves Him and because
They are eternally in perfect relationship {with Paraclete too, of course!!}.
So love should be the driving force of our obedience, not fear & torment (1
John 4:18). But why do we love God? The very next verse tells us—because He
first loved us (4:19)! And also 4:10—He showed His love for us by sending Jesus
to be our propitiation (the conciliation, the act of making God favorably
inclined, appeasing Him).
Abba’s love came to me through the death and sacrifice of
Jesus. In my prayer closet this morning, Paraclete showed me that when I’m
trying to earn/prove myself worthy of God’s love—by serving, going overseas,
etc. etc.—I am acting like Jesus’ love & sacrifice were not sufficient…I am
minimalizing the greatest act in all of history and acting like my filthy rags
of righteous deeds (Isaiah 64:6) are better.
Oh Abba, forgive me for that egregious misconstrued view!!!
So we abide in God’s love by keeping His commandments out of
a heart of love for Him, because He first loved us and reconciled us to
Himself. See how it’s like a heptapod* circle??!!! Love is the goal, the means,
and the catalyst!
And it’s all about You, Abba—it’s not about me or anything I
could ever do.
Abba, I don’t know how to practice and apply this! But I
know it is foundational and critically
important—I know it’s a game changer if this lesson could sink deep into my
heart and become my driving force! Again in my prayer closet, Paraclete
reminded me that I can’t give what I haven’t received….
{And at that point I arrived at my destination!}
About a month ago, I joined a small accountability group at
a local church here. We are going through a book called The Genesis Process together. It’s focused on helping people deal
with the root causes behind addictions or other self-destructive coping
behaviors. It keeps on bringing me back to this idea:
And then this morning I started working on the fourth process, and this is how it began:
I definitely learned this lesson the hard way in August
2016. That month, two men who were serving as leaders in both the organization
and the church each had to resign because of moral shortcomings. The first one
was an especially hard blow to me, as I had been welcomed into his home many times
by him and his wife.
I remember crying in the staff meeting when his resignation
was announced. And then I went home and sat on the floor of my room and sobbed
for probably around 10 minutes. Grieving the brokenness of sin. Grieving the
pain I was sure his wife was going through. Grieving my own hurt too. Fighting
feelings of a guilt too complex to explain without sharing details of other
peoples’ stories.
That day I was so tempted to make a vow of sorts—a vow never
again to get so close to another family that I would open myself up to that
kind of pain. A vow never to trust and admire someone as I had allowed myself
to do with him—because such Christian familial love had wounded me deeply.
I thank God that I stopped myself from making that decision.
I knew it was the wrong decision—a decision that would let the enemy win. And
so I continued to grow in relationship with many other sisters and couples. But
that wound still aches when I think of it. I think I allowed that and other
things which began developing around the same time to plant a seed of
hopelessness in my heart. I did my best to process and forgive….but somehow I
think I closed off a little cupboard of bitterness inside my soul.
Fast forward back to today. Later in the morning, as I was
outside processing through some other stuff, my mind made its way back to what
I had read in The Genesis Process.
I wrote:
Love & wounding—both are always two-way streets. Except for with God. He is the only One who loves perfectly and never wounds unjustly—with the one, all-important exception of Jesus on
the cross.
In a strange, miraculous way that only God could plan, that
moment in human history was both the most unjust (towards Jesus, who had done nothing wrong), and yet also the most
merciful & gracious & loving towards us—we who had broken all the
relationships, who have done all the
wounding, who deserve nothing but eternal judgment and yet receive nothing but
unconditional love. Such beauty & brokenness at the same time!!!
Now a few hours later, those words bring to mind Hebrews
12:1-3:
“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a
cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily
ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking
unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set
before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the
right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who endured such hostility
from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your
souls.”
And so I choose to continue opening myself up to love and,
yes, even to the risk of human woundedness, because in so doing I am following
in the footsteps of the most truly Human person who ever lived—our Savior,
Jesus Christ. May His love in and through me glorify and magnify HIS beauty!
*To fully understand this analogy, you have to watch Arrival – it’s an alien film, but I
found it to have deep theological undertones looking at it from a Biblical worldview!
But to semi-explain the circle bit: Basically in that film, the aliens
communicate through a written language made up of circles, with each circle
being a phrase/sentence with multiple words...or something like that! See below
for an example. The circle is formed by smoke from the heptapod's feet, and so
the language is written with foreknowledge of the phrase/sentence as a whole.
The Church is NOT a good works club, it IS a fellowship of grace! It’s NOT about what we do—period!
All we have to do is to receive, openly & vulnerably; to be loved by Jesus. Works-based
Christianity does NOT create sustainable faith!
The above paraphrase was the key point of the sermon I heard
this morning—a sermon so good I sat through it twice! (I’m attending church
with my hostess for the next several months, at Oak Hills Presbyterian Church
here on the outskirts of Portland.)
Currently, the church is going through a sermon series on
Acts, and this morning’s passage was about 4:32-5:11—the story of the early
Church’s lifestyle of radical giving and the death of Ananias and Saphira.
Jeremy (the pastor here) made the case that, at root, this passage is not
really about money or giving. It’s about a deeper lifestyle choice: Pretense or
Vulnerability.
The generous people, including Barnabas, showed their
vulnerability by giving up their earthly security for the sake of others –
demonstrating that the resurrection of Christ (4:33) had set them free from the
self-protective hoarding of resources. The beneficiaries of this generosity
also had to practice vulnerability, admitting to their church family that they
were facing needs that they couldn’t meet on their own.
The power of Christ created a culture of radical openness
and vulnerability for those who found their identity in HIM, rather than in
trying to project a false image of themselves to others. Ananias and Saphira,
however, made a show of spiritual heroism that was a lie – and for that they were severely punished….by death!
Jeremy talked about the word hypocrite, which comes from the Greek word for actor. In Greek
culture, stage actors would wear masks to show their emotions—happy for a
joyful scene, sad for a tragic scene, etc. With the masks, they projected what
the scene required, while hiding what was really going on underneath.
He concluded his sermon, “the only way to receive grace is
by being open and broken, trusting in
God’s grace and being real with one another.”
This sermon really struck a chord with me where I am at
spiritually right now. I have so very much to be thankful for, so very much to
praise God for. But this year, and the past several years before, have each been
the successively hardest year of my life. And so I want to share more about
that here than I have so far. Not to illicit pity. Definitely not to brag on
myself (quite the contrary!). But to testify of God’s Grace.
God has brought the above song to my mind multiple times in
the past few months. This is who I want to be. Real and raw, yes, but for the purpose of allowing God to shine His Glory through my brokenness.
As those close to me know, most of this year has been an
intense spiritual battle for me. In January I returned to my second home in
Uganda, excited for another term…though also with reservations. Before I could
even get back into my job at the office, I was hit simultaneously with insomnia,
depression, and worse.
For the next six plus months, many days it was a struggle
just to get out of bed. It felt like I was constantly fighting a losing battle
with hopelessness. After two months with little maintainable progress, I
resigned from my position in Uganda, said goodbye to the people who had become
my family there, and returned home to Dallas. I’ve become ok over these past
months with naming depression as one of my struggles. There were also other
struggles I’m still not comfortable naming this publicly.....shame can be a
strong enemy. [No physical or emotional harm was maliciously done to me.]
Suffice it to say, the fact that I am currently walking in
relationship with God is in itself a testimony to God’s abundant Grace, lavish
Love, and constant Pursuit towards me. He did this using so many amazing people
both in Uganda, Dallas, and other places who didn’t give up on me…who kept
loving me, praying for me, speaking truth to me, and fighting (spiritually) on
my behalf. If I started naming names I couldn’t quit…so I won’t start, except
to say that my parents are at the top of the list. :)
The fact that a month and a half ago I moved half way across
the country, to a place where I personally knew no one; that I am now in an
intense program of learning and serving, and that I am {mostly**} flourishing
here—that is an unimaginable miracle of Christ’s mercy and transforming power.
When people hear about my life since graduation from college
in May of 2013—most of that time spent rooted in the red soil of East Africa—they
can quickly and easily tend to put me on a pedestal. I’m here to tell you
today, I am NO super hero. I am not applying that title to myself—one well-meaning
person has told me that missionaries, me inclusive, are. On the contrary, I am
just as flawed and broken as anyone else….if not more so (in the spirit of Paul,
expressed in 1 Tim. 1:15). Any good that has come of my life is all God’s Grace.
Yesterday morning, I spent more than three hours journaling…processing…praying…grieving.
My Good Shepherd has led me on a road that has been full of both the very good and the very hard in these past five years, since I first
knocked on the door labelled “Uganda.” But He has been with me every single
step of the way, both on the sunny mountaintops and in the darkest of valleys.
This year’s breakdown didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s seeds
were sown from my personality and character flaws…from circumstances and
situations which affected me…from my failure to name what I needed and ask for
help (at least not until it was too late, humanly speaking)…from organizational
and personnel challenges. The pressure really started building in August of
2016…so it was a long time coming.
So that’s my practice at being open and vulnerable. And
maybe very few people will take the time to read this. But I process best by
writing, and so hopefully composing this blog post will better free my tongue
in personal dialogue. Please feel free to ask me questions. Christ’s healing of
my heart is finally bringing me to a place of being more willing to speak of
these things. But these previous paragraphs are not the whole story.
Here is the “My Story” version:
Hope that wouldn't
let go: My Savior never lost a grip on the wheel of my life, even when it
looked to me like it was chaotically spinning out of control. And HE has restored
my hope in Him, in His time and way.
Love that never gave
up: These past three weeks, my Lover has been calling my heart to be willing
to receive from Him and from others. Not that I should try to earn or deserve
anything, simply to receive…and THEN to give.
Life, but it wasn't
mine: “Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit
who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were
bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which
are God’s” (1 Cor. 6:19-20).
The grace that is
greater than all my sin: If I spoke of God’s Grace—in loving me and
redeeming me from sin—for every hour of the rest of my life, I wouldn’t have
time to tell it all.
When justice was
served: But not to me; to the perfect, sinless Son of God. There are times I
want to call “FOUL!” on my life, times I say I wish there had been justice in a
given situation. But that’s only because I fail to remember what true justice
really demands.
Where mercy wins: Every
single day, every breath of my life, is as a result of the mercy of Christ.
The kindness of Jesus
that draws me in: The opposite of what I in myself deserve…but He showers
His kindness instead.
Victory over the
enemy: The victory has already been won!! It’s not my battle to fight—it’s
a gift the Christ already waged the war for, that I am simply to allow HIM to
apply to and live out in my life.
Freedom that was won
for me: Freedom from fear. Freedom from failure. Freedom to be known and to
know. To be loved and to love. To be served and to serve. Freedom as a gift
from Him, applied by Him, in and through this weak vessel.
Life overcome the
grave: Our Savior is RISEN!!! And that resurrection power is at work in each
and every one of His children!
This is my story,
this is my song,
Praising my Savior
all the day long.
One more thing that is finally getting through my thick skull:
There WILL be more challenges in my future. More twists & turns in the
road. More apparently deep, dark valleys. Maybe even tomorrow. But, Lord help
me, when those times come I want to turn more quickly to Your Truth. To root my
confidence deeply in You, not in my comfort or things going my way. To say with
Mary, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to Your
word” (Luke 1:38).
Please join me in praying that for me and, if you dare,
maybe for yourself as well.
**Three weeks ago, I heard I had to leave my initial/temporary
housing by the end of September. And that I couldn’t move into the house down
the street—that I was sure was ideal—because
of a logistical detail. My emotions and insecurities proceeded to throw an internal
hissy fit. A night of zero sleep followed, and for several days the fear and
despair and hopelessness came rolling back over me.
I’m so thankful to our team leaders and my team mates for
supporting me through that. And I can now say I’m thankful it happened, because
God used it as a catalyst to push me out of the comfortable coasting (from two
months of almost all great days) and back onto the road of proactive,
intentional healing. Also, in a stroke of divine irony, the new home I moved
to, where I initially didn’t want to be, has been an amazing fit and a real
gift. So I was fighting God, when of course He knew better all along!!
On Friday I was informed that my presence was needed (as the
minutes taker) at a meeting at our other center starting on Monday. Sunday after
church, I found out that the car I was riding in would be departing at 4 a.m.
the next morning. No, I wasn’t thrilled…as I’m sure you can imagine! But I’m
always excited to spend time with the Kobwin family so I was looking forward to
that.
As my mom says, “expectations will get you every time!” :P
I don’t remember when my cough had started this time. I know
I came down with congestion & a cough on May 13th after
reporting a long event. But thanks to the nasal adjustment my osteotherapist
gave me the next day, lots of vitamins and a few doses of Nyquil, I didn’t feel
too bad during my safari trip that Mon-Wed.
This past Sunday afternoon, I again ended up reporting a
long event. I came home absolutely exhausted, and at some point the cough had
come back. So I took it with me to Kobwin.
In the meantime, one of my sisters here had walked through
the painful loss of her first (early-term) pregnancy. She spent almost a week
in the hospital before the staff confirmed that the baby was no longer alive or
inside. Watching her and her husband walk through that was painful. But in the
last week and a half, I have also been encouraged by their example and
testimony. No, it’s not easy. It’s HARD. But I’ve seen them lean on God, give
their baby back to Him, and grow stronger in their relationship with one
another.
So on Monday of this week, I woke up really early and
boarded the car. It was packed, since
it was also serving as transport for a staff family moving back to that general
area. We ended up making three unplanned stops – two dealing with tires (one
tire went flat) and another for an hour and a half on the side of the road
after a hose pipe busted (or something along those lines). Instead of reaching
our destination at lunch time and starting meetings then, our van didn’t reach
there until around 6 p.m.
I was exhausted and ready to crash, despite having slept
some in the car. But the decision was made to meet from 8-10 p.m. that night.
And I was staying with a Ugandan staff member in her house rather than at the
guesthouse like I expected. Which was good, because otherwise I would have
hardly seen her at all, but it came with its own challenges (namely, bathroom
facilities).
I think it was that night that I felt how inadequate I was
for the situation – and I started praying for God’s grace to sustain me through
the next days. My hostess made apologies for the dust from the roof (papyrus
matting) and for the rats that lived in the roof. Thankfully I really didn’t
notice the latter, but I think the former exacerbated my cough.
A young boy who came with his dad in the van I was riding in
had slept almost all day on Monday. That night, he had a high fever. So as I
went to bed that night, that was my prayer focus – as well as thankfulness for
a very positive update I had heard in the meeting.
The health of my relationship with God has really been under
fire in the past months/year. I’ve kept trying to press through, and I’ve
talked about it with my mentor here. But nothing had seemed to be shifting noticeably.
In the past 2.5 weeks, I’ve been going through a Beth Moore Bible study, “Believing
God,” in preparation for co-leading it with another lady here starting next
week. Both this study and a book my mentor and I are reading through has been
bringing to life the reminders about God that I’ve needed to hear again.
So on Monday night as I prayed for the little boy, I was so
encouraged to notice a difference in my heart’s attitude. There’s not a
concrete way to explain it, but my belief and faith were stronger that God
could and would intervene, in His
time & way. That encouraged my heart, and I know it wasn’t because of ME.
It is God’s grace.
The next morning (yesterday), I was so blessed to hear that
he was doing ok, and that he and his father had slept well (one of my specific
prayer requests).
The meetings started at about 9 a.m. and continued with only
three 45-minute breaks until 9 p.m. The heat at Kobwin (especially inside
buildings during the day) meant that we met outside. Which also meant that my
computer battery life ended up being something of an issue. So during the last
two breaks I had to walk a few minutes away to the office, the only place with sockets
at the center.
By break time (10:30 a.m., which always includes tea and
snacks in Uganda), I noticed that I had a headache. Thankfully I always carry
ibuprofen with me, so I took one. And the rest of the day, I found myself
watching the clock for when I could take one again. Each one gave me about two
hours of relief, enough to carry on my responsibilities, but I was not feeling great.
The meetings finally wrapped up, and I was told we would be
getting up at 5 a.m. to leave for the long drive back home to Kasana. Oh
bother. I was sad that the hectic schedule meant I had barely said three
sentences to any of my friends there other than my hostess. Additionally, one
of the families that I’m closest to wasn’t even around, they were on leave
(vacation).
I went back to the house where I was staying, packed things
up, and got myself to bed as fast as I could since I was once again exhausted.
My cough kept me awake longer than I wanted, until the cough drop I took
started helping. Then just a few hours later, I awoke again. My skin was hot to
my own touch, but I was shivering in violent spurts. I pulled the heavy blanket
over me, and tried to pray and sleep again. Twice, as I prayed for peace, I
immediately felt my tense, shivering body relax. Thankfully it didn’t take too
long to fall back asleep.
We got on the road at around 6 this morning, and thankfully
the trip back was much less eventful. The van was also roomier, since obviously
we weren’t taking back the load we had carried on the way up. So I was able to
stretch out on a bench seat and sleep some. But coughing and the bumpy road
were not kind to my headache, in spite of still being on ibuprofen.
We safely reached home at about 2 p.m. This afternoon was
our weekly staff fellowship, and I went even though I still didn’t feel great.
As I forced myself to unpack to clear off my bed, I couldn’t help but think
about how the last time I felt healthy for an extended period of time was
probably in early March, before my last Kobwin trip and before rainy season
started.
Rainy season here for me brings frequent sneezing fits
(especially in the morning) and a drippy nose. Probably a reaction to the
cooler temperatures and mold.
An example of the latter: I have a pair of sandals I have
worn very frequently over the past year and a half. Recently, I didn’t put them
on for a couple weeks because I needed to do a bit of sewing on them to shorten
the elastic straps. In the meantime, mold started to grow on my sandals.
On Sunday I had given them a good scrubbing (Oh, maybe that’s
why my cough came back??), and they look so clean now! It’s funny how you don’t
fully realize just how dirty something has gradually gotten until you clean it
thoroughly.
Anyway, It’s been a rough three months, full of ups and
downs health-wise. In my room, I have a calendar with the names of God on it. Interestingly,
May’s name was Jehovah Rophe, “The God Who Heals.” As I looked at the calendar
this evening, preparing to flip it, I had just taken my temperature to find
that I have a slight fever for the third or fourth distinct time in the past
three months.
My heart wanted to scoff at the promise I had welcomed so
hopefully at the beginning of May. But then I re-read May’s verse: “Bless the
LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits, who forgives all your
iniquity; who heals all your diseases” (Psalm 103:2-3). I was struck by the
order of that. It’s not God’s physical healing that has priority. No, it’s the spiritual healing that every believer
has received which is primary. And it’s on that basis that I can proclaim God’s
goodness tonight.
So even when I was struck by another fit of shivering as I
wrote this post, even though I still have a fever (101 now), I can and will
continue to proclaim God’s goodness. I can and will choose to be thankful for
the many blessings I have received from God, which are too innumerable to count.
And I can and will rest in my salvation by
grace. On our long journey north on Monday, we witnessed multiple evidences
of what a blessing that is. But that’s too long of a story for an
already-mammoth post. Check out my ministry Facebook page on Friday for that.
As I close tonight, yes I would appreciate your prayers. But
I find in my own heart the courage to pray “God, let Your will be done” rather
than demanding that I feel perfectly fine when I wake up in the morning. First
item on tomorrow’s agenda, sleep in.
Second item, go get a malaria test. For the third time in as many months. If it’s
like the other two times, the test will come back negative, but I’ll still feel
crummy for an unknown length of time. But God is still good, ALL the time.
Thursday evening update: The blood test for malaria did come back positive this time, but that was almost a relief as then the treatment is obvious. I took my second dose this evening, four more to go.
Today was one of “those days” – days when one feels
overloaded & overwhelmed.
I travelled back on Tuesday from a week of vacationing out
at Musana Camps, NHU’s beautiful property on the shores of Lake Victoria. But
by this afternoon, any rest during that week seemed hardly worth the piles of
work I came back to.
So many things to do, chiefly reading & processing
300ish letters from our primary & senior students to their sponsors. But so
many other things too, pressing things that I just can’t seem to make time for.
Budgets & emails & new sponsorships, and a pile of Christmas packages
for kids just waiting to be opened & checked.
I was tired and frustrated and on edge this afternoon. One
of my friends had stopped by several times to do various things at the admin
offices. So we had greeted & chatted a bit, and she could see I was tired.
Trying to get some of the letters read, I could just feel my
frustration building. A class where the teacher had written a letter and just
had all the students copy it (true, it’s a young class, but they should still
be able to answer simple questions for themselves). Other things that hadn’t
gone quite like I expected.
I was about ready to throw in the towel and go for a run to
vent my pent up feelings, even though it was 3 p.m. and I was nearly sweating
just sitting still in my office.
Then my friend showed up again. She handed me a manila
envelope, strangely shaped. Inside was a box of cold mango juice she had bought
for me.
Such a seemingly small thing – but to me it was not a small
thing: it was a big thing.
Because as she turned and left before I had even finished
opening it and thanking her, my mind flew back to Tuesday night.
That night, we women here at Kasana had started a
video-based Bible study: “Walking with God in the Desert,” by Ray Vander Laan.
He’s a Bible teacher who takes people out to the Holy Land and creates studies
about Christian history & heritage and lessons to be learned from that.
There have definitely been times in the past year and in the
past months when I have felt the blasting heat of a metaphorical desert wind.
Moving & living half way around the world from everything familiar isn’t
easy. Carrying a lot of responsibility for months can be a draining challenge.
But, as Ray reminded us, it’s in the desert we often are
reminded that it is God who is faithful and sufficient, and it is in the desert
times that we can learn to fall in love with Him all over again.
In the second video lesson we watched, Ray talked about the
concept in the Bible of God being the shade at our right hand. He said the Hebrew
word refers to what we call a broom tree. It’s more like a shrub or a bush:
something which can give relief from the heat, but not like an oak tree that
more completely blocks out the burning sunlight.
God doesn’t promise us that He will magically make all of
our problems disappear! But He does promise us that He will give us the shade
and relief at all times when we need Him. And His grace is sufficient for us to
take the next step, to make it through the next challenge. What’s more, God
often uses the community of His people to bring that shade to one another.
This afternoon, God used my friend to remind me about what I
had already so quickly forgotten. That box of mango juice was my broom tree for
the afternoon. I thank God for my friends here, including this one who’s “small”
act of kindness honestly turned around my whole frame of mind.
The only way to explain it is God. A box of mango juice
doesn’t really turn me from someone who’s frustrated and fed up into someone
who can take the next step and the next step and make progress in reading
letters. It was just a practical object lesson & reminder that God is
enough and He will provide the strength I need. I had written those same words
just a couple hours before, because I knew with my head they were true. But God
in His grace sent my friend with a box of mango juice because He knew I needed
to remember and feel it with my heart this afternoon.
Because of what my friend did for me, I was also able to
reach out to other friends and hopefully be a bit of God’s shade for them too.
That’s how God’s grace works. It’s not just something I take and keep for
myself. It’s something that I receive in order to pass it on to others – for the
glory of our loving Father.
So as you go about your day, maybe think about how you can
be God’s broom tree for others in their struggles. And don’t forget that God is
always there for you in your desert, no farther away than you can reach your
right hand.
It’s a
normal Saturday for Esther in Uganda: laundry, pancakes, Institute homework,
thinking about trying to catch up on emails. The day always flies by too fast.
I went
outside to get Internet and check to see if my new laptop had arrived at its
Stateside destination for a returning staff member to bring it to Uganda early
next week. And that’s when it happened.
As I
checked Facebook, I found out about a major earthquake earlier in the day,
outside of Kathmandu, Nepal. A friend who was awakened by an early morning call
from her son to let her know he and his family were ok. A post from a
non-profit in the midst of building competitions and Stateside concerns.
And I had
just posted about being annoyed that mosquitoes were biting me because I had forgotten
to apply bug spray before going outside.
A minor
inconvenience to the trauma and tragedy hundreds of thousands of people are dealing
with right now in Nepal. The death toll, already nearing 900, will undoubtedly
rise. People, many injured, are/were scared to go back inside because
aftershocks continue rocking the buildings.
Somehow,
this time it’s sinking in further. So often, it’s easy to read about disasters
and just go about my life. But today, it hit home. As I went back inside,
thinking about how to spend the rest of my day, the incongruity and unfairness
of it all swept over me.
This
moment, there are probably people trapped in collapsed buildings, fighting for
their lives. There are thousands whose homes were destroyed, who will spend the
night outside in the cold. And I was debating what to have for dinner and whether
or not to watch a movie.
Incongruity.
It is only
by the Lord’s mercy that I am not suffering the same (Lamentations 3:22). That
I am instead enjoying innumerable comforts I still take for granted and resent
when I don’t have, even here in the bush of Uganda. Why them? Why not me? Why
suffering?
We were talking
about the sovereignty of God and the role of Satan in class last week. And then
this morning, hours before I became aware of all this, I read the part of
Romans 9 talking about how God prepares some for destruction and some for mercy
(vs. 14-29).
God could
have prevented this earthquake. He could have prevented all earthquakes, all
natural disasters. But He chooses not to – and the reason is always His plan
and His glory. Because He takes things meant for evil and turns them into good.
My brain can’t comprehend that, because for those hundreds and hundreds of
people who died it doesn’t seem like there can
be ANY good in it. But God knows. God loved and cared about every single one of
those people, each one as a unique and special creation of His.
It blows my
mind to try and think about this. Which is why God is the one in charge and not
me! And I am so thankful He is. As I sat on my bed trying to digest the discrepancy
between my “challenges” and the life-and-death situation of my fellow humanity
right now in Nepal, the tears came. How could I go on about my normal life in
the face of this disaster?
Thoughts
and ideas flitted through my mind, but the problem is so beyond anything I can
really do to affect it. Even prayer feels so small and helpless when looking at
things from the perspective of thousands wounded and/or homeless. But prayer is
the tool God has given us – and so I prayed. And I will keep on praying. Won’t
you join me?
Thankfully,
God also uses organizations and individuals to do things both small and big
which can help alleviate the hardship of some of these survivors in the coming
days and weeks. And just as it is the thought of the individuals who died which
makes this feel so overwhelming, so it is the thought of the individuals who
will be helped and sustained which brings hope and comfort.
Please pray
for Nepal. And please give to help with the relief efforts which will be taking
place. Samaritan’s Purse is one organization. I know there are others as well.
Don’t forget our fellow humanity in Nepal tomorrow, next week, even in the
coming months. They will still need your prayers and support.
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.
{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—Iso 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.
{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}
{I’m taking a wee break from the informal “series” I’ve been
working my way through here, because this came to mind. And as I posted on
Facebook this evening, I’m seeking to live in the moment, rooted in God.}
I’m a slow learner.
It might be that sometimes I’m good at hiding it, because I
always try to look like I have everything together. But that doesn’t change the
facts.
I’m still a slow learner.
Especially when it comes to the most critical lessons of
all: those in the spiritual realm—relating to God, and those in the community
realm—relating to others.
I so easily forget so many things.
Like conveying messages for people. Like the fact that my
roommate wouldn’t be here tonight. Things slip through cracks in my mind so
very easily, usually because I’m focused and consumed with myself and my own
issues.
Lessons that I “ought” to have learned must be repeated over
and over, because I have failed to learn them with my heart.
My head knows the truth—I like being able to have all the
doctrinal boxes checked: God is good. God is in charge. My life is in His
hands. I’m trusting Him. My satisfaction is found in Him alone. He’s doing all
things for His glory. He’s the one who controls my life. He’s on the throne of
the Universe.
Still, somehow, there’s a communication breakdown. Not with
my mouth (or in many cases, my fingers—writing or typing). I can say all the
right words.
But how often does my heart believe it? How often do my
actions show it? As I look back on the past months and years, even as I review
my journal from last fall….I must admit not as often as I would like.
Sometimes I get so caught up in analyzing what I’m thinking,
feeling, doing…I get so busy trying to process the things I’ve been through,
that I forget to love people. I forget to live as Christ’s ambassador…because I’m
examining myself under a microscope.
How does one trust
God in daily life? How does one reflect His image to others?
Honestly, I feel like I don’t know how to do that very well.
But I want to learn. And I hope I am, bit by bit (or as they say here, "slowly by slowly").
Sometimes (oftentimes), it gets to a point where I’m too
full. Where I can’t read another chapter, where I can’t digest another article
from someone’s blog. But I’m bad at actively seeking and finding outlets for
what I’m taking in. I try to process it through writing, and end up questioning
what good that does.
As an introvert, I physically don’t feel like it’s possible
for me to be around people all the time. But people are what matter most after
God, right? How am I to live a life of total service and love? Obviously, I can’t
in my own strength.
Today I was catching up on a friend’s blog. I was working on
a major processing project. I’m in the middle of a blog “series” that I want to
write the next one of. I’ve got a couple work assignments I could work on. So
many directions I could go, so many ways I could spend my time.
But instead, I went and lay out under the stars for a while.
I sought to take a breath, to be still before my Creator. And I took comfort
that Christ, my model – even He had to take times when He got away from
ministering to the people around Him, times of prayer and spiritual nourishment
alone with His Father.
Most certainly, I am not saying that I have been serving
like my Master served. Not nearly. I often think much about reaching out to
people and touching their lives in a way that will have eternal value. But
usually I end up in my hut, sometimes trying to satisfy my own selfish desires…sometimes
in activities with a nobler goal but still with a me-centered practical result.
So this post doesn’t pretend to have the answers.
It’s just me being real…recognizing an issue.
But I don’t want it to stop there. It so often does with me.
Last fall, I recognized a path my thoughts and feelings were leading me down.
And my actions continued taking me down that same path. And that had
consequences.
I have 17 full days left here at Kasana. I don’t want to
waste those days. Abba Father, show me how to invest the time You have given me
here. Help me listen to Your conviction & promptings. Teach me to trust.
I am simply a shooting star in the sky of God’s plan. A
momentary blip. But I am a person over whom God has made claim. I have been
bought with a price—my life is not my own. I want to spend it in His service.
For the sake of His great name.
{This is the backstory of the puzzle pieces God brought
together this month and that I published a LONG blog post about the other day.
Written at the end of March.}
It started a year ago. In the spring semester of 2013 (my
last before graduation), the JBU campus experienced a tragedy which impacted
most of our small community, at least to some extent. A little less than two
weeks later, I experienced a personal tragedy. Nothing in comparison, but it
impacted me. That same day, I had to turn in the application to intern with
Samaritan’s Purse.
Needless to say—and for even more factors than listed
above—it was an emotional semester. On March 3, with the above three happenings
swirling in my head, I went on a labyrinth walk as part of a class I was
taking. For a bit more about the class, see this post.
That day in the labyrinth, seeking God’s peace and wisdom, He brought me to an
important realization from Micah 6:8. To quote from the response paper I wrote
for the class:
Thinking
that I deserve to know why things happen the way they do—or wanting so badly to
know what will happen ahead of time—is a sign of pride. God calls us to walk
humbly before Him – that includes trusting Him and surrendering our “right” to
know why and our ideal plans and dreams.
{You can read the rest of the response here on my other blog.}
There were still a lot of ups and downs in the two months leading
to my college graduation…but I hope that truth stuck with me through at least a
few of those days. May 4 came, closing out my time of being a student at JBU.
At that point, I knew I would be going to N.Ireland with a JBU mission team for
the month of June, then interning with SP {yep, they had accepted me!} for July
and August. I kind of assumed that I would like SP and would want to get a job
there, but I knew that was not for sure.
I also expected to cry at graduation, or at some point
during the following week that I stayed in Siloam Springs, but no tears came
even as I said goodbye to the place that had been home for four years and to
some of my best friends…not knowing if/when I would see them again. The tears
started instead on an observation platform in the beautiful N.Ireland (almost
exactly nine months ago) as the truth came home that I wouldn’t be back with
the team and the rest of my JBU friends in the fall.
And the tears continued raining down as the next two months
turned out more confusing than I expected; as I still ended up applying for a
job opening (that I had been basically filling) but then was not chosen; as I
found myself back home with no easy “real” job leads; as I felt led to offer
myself as a teacher (though without any traditional qualifications) to fill a
need expressed by a new missionary family; as God provided abundantly and got
me here three months later; as I have faced the daily challenges of living in
the African bush (plus sickness/a couple injuries); and as I made mistakes and
things here have not gone as well as I wish they had.
I feel sorry for my mom and my roommate here (and my pillow,
haha), who have faced most of my crying episodes. {And I must not be looking to
them (or any people) as my sole source of comfort and satisfaction!} But I am so thankful for the love and encouragement they have
consistently provided, pointing me toward the Truth.
On the mountain where I lived in North Carolina during July
and August, the question (“Do you trust Me?”) which had been a recurring theme became a command in my heart and mind. Going back and reading those two posts is so convicting,
because it’s a lesson I still haven’t finished learning.
Which was a post in and of itself – about how I thought I’d reach a spiritual graduation of
sorts concurrent with my college graduation. Even just now, reading the
two-part post I wrote in September, it feels like I’m just going around and
around, coming back to the same things over and over. But I hope and pray that
each time the lesson goes a little deeper—peels back another onion-like layer
of my selfishly-inclined heart.
Because even through these past nine months, full of
frustration and emotion, God has proved Himself faithful. When I didn’t want to
be “stuck” in Dallas without knowing what was coming next, He provided a
part-time job and He used that time at home to continue bringing deeper healing
to decade-old wounds.
When He called me to come to Uganda – even when I was reluctant and distrustful – He poured out His blessings.
When I’ve been tempted to question His goodness, He has brought peace. When things have not gone my way, He has called me to surrender and trust. When I’ve been trying to do things in my own strength, He has convicted me of my natural patterns that are not fully in line with Truth and His best. Because He is a God full of grace and never-ending second chances….if my heart is seeking Him and crying out for His humility. And it’s all for the sake of His great name…so that we may know that He is God. For His glory alone.
God is good. I am so very grateful that such a simple and
yet also profound statement is true, and that it never changes. In the past
year or so, there have been many times things haven’t gone as I would like them
to. I must admit, I often tend to complain in those times. But God has been
ever so consistently (and patiently) pointing me back to the fact that He is
good, no matter what.
God is also the same, wherever I am and whatever I am doing.
Because He is so much BIGGER than anything in my microscopic blip of a life on
the radar of eternity. And yet, at the same time, He cares. He sees our hearts,
and He feels our times of joy and our times of pain. Wonder of wonders, He
offers us a relationship with Him, and makes His power available to us. We can
worship Him in every choice and action, anywhere in the world.
I thought about that last bit this past weekend. The
Institute here in Uganda had the 14th and 17th off classes, so
several people went on mini vacations for the four-day break. I joined a
young couple in traveling to an island out in Lake Victoria, which was a huge
blessing! As I sat on the shore of the lake or under a tree higher up on the
island, I was able to once again come back to “base camp,” so to speak – to
reorient myself again to what matters most.
God blessed me with a beautiful time of meditating on His
Word and being able to worship Him, away from some of the routine of daily life
that can so often distract me from focusing as fully on Him. And as I did, I
was reminded of similar blessed times in Arkansas, N. Ireland, North Carolina,
and even Dallas (it’s harder in the big city though…). It struck me more fully
that no matter where I am, God is the same and He is just as present with and
in me. That is simply amazing for my human mind to comprehend!
Because God is a good God, He is committed to bringing glory
to Himself. In the past weeks, I have been reminded that one way He does this
is by working in the lives of His children to conform them to His image (Romans
8:29). Because He is all-powerful, He can do just that. What’s more, He works
in every situation so that—on an eternal scale—all things work together for the
good of each one who loves God (Romans 8:28). Even in situations which do not
seem ideal, He brings redemption and benefit.
I am so thankful for these truths, even though I so often
lose focus and need to be reminded of them once again. God continues to point
me back to Himself; and even if that is the only thing which I gain from what I
am experiencing, it is worth it because He receives the glory and praise He
deserves.
