Embracing Weakness

Confession time: Sometimes living in Haiti has a way of really bringing out my weaknesses.  

Sometimes it's feeling helpless when I see a child who is in so much pain and I can't do anything to make them better.  Sometimes it's being sick and exhausted and wanting to be at home where it's comfortable.  Sometimes it's when my patience is wearing thin and I feel like I'm going to have a nervous breakdown if I see one more ant.

At first, it overwhelmed me.  When you go into mission work, your expectations are not that God is sending you overseas to be confronted head-on with ALL your weaknesses. Yet, that is exactly what has been happening.

God has really been having to teach me to be content in my weakness.  Seeing poverty, sickness, and devastation has a way of making us feel helpless and powerless.  We wish with all our might that we could change the circumstances, and in some cases we can, but the truth is that the overwhelming majority of problems are outside our control.  That is where God comes in.  The reason I'm beginning to learn to be grateful for my own weaknesses is because when I recognize my inability, I can focus on God's ability.

Jesus Calling's devotion the other day was right on target for where I've been the past few months:

"I have taken you along a path that has highlighted your need for Me; placing you in situations where your strengths were irrelevant and your weaknesses were glaringly evident."

And everyone said, "AMEN."  We've probably all experienced this at some point in our lives. Well that point for me, more than any other time in my life so far, is right now. 

The thing is, the path that highlights our need for God is not always pleasant for our flesh.  It can crush our confidence and make us feel powerless.  It can cause us pain and make us uncomfortable.  But it's in this place where we are reminded of the value of Christ in our lives, and our hunger and desperation for Him is renewed.  When we realize our great weakness, we become dependent on God's amazing grace.  And when we are dependent on God's grace instead of our own strength and resources, that is when God is able to work his power within us.

Even Paul experienced this in his life and ministry.  In 2 Corinthians, chapter 12, he writes this:

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited.  Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this that it should leave me.

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 of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Paul was a powerful missionary who performed signs and wonders, yet even he suffered weaknesses.  Not only did he admit that he experienced weakness, but he boasted of the things that showed those weaknesses.  The thorn that God gave Paul was to keep him from becoming conceited.  God revealed Paul's weakness to keep him humble.  Paul realized that his weaknesses, and not the great revelations that he received from God, would be the platform for demonstrating the Lord's power and grace.

Because of this, he learned to be content with weakness, insults, hardships, persecution, and calamities.  By God's grace, we can too.

We can be content with weaknesses because God uses people who are weak in the eyes of the world. 

When confronted with weakness, whether it be something inside ourselves or an outside circumstance that makes us seem weak, most of us question our value to God and to his purposes.  We wonder how God can truly use us for his glory despite our frailty or in the midst of the hardships we are facing.  Thank God that he doesn't disqualify us because of weakness.  Throughout history, God has used weak, broken people just like us to accomplish his purposes.  When he uses people who the world sees as weak to do great things, He gets the glory for it.  When God uses us, even though we are weak and powerless, it is clear to us and to others that is is God who should be praised, and not ourselves.  When we recognize that we are insufficient and that God is not, it causes us to proclaim what the writer of Psalm 115 proclaimed: 

"Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory, for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness!"

1 Corinthians 1:27 says, "But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong..."

When I read those words, "God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong," I'm reminded of how much we can learn from the Haitian people.

The world would consider most Haitians to be weak.  The latest research has shown that Haiti is currently the poorest country in the world.  Many of them are experiencing intense starvation, disease, and a lack of education.  And while their physical states may indeed portray weakness, their spiritual states show great strength. 

A verse that always comes to mind when I consider the Haitian people is James 2:5.  

"Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love him?"

Because of their physical poverty, they are chosen to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom.  Not heirs of a rich great uncle who passes down money & material things, but heirs of the kingdom.  Heirs of a real king.  And their inheritance is something invaluable.  Their inheritance is something lasting.  It is of more importance and more worth than anything we can achieve in this world.

They depend on God as their sustainer and provider,  and they are storing up treasure in heaven as they love and trust Him above all things.

He uses the weak in the world to shame the strong.  All I know is I'm okay with not being the strong one in that situation.  I don't want to be strong if it means sacrificing my inheritance in Jesus.  I don't want to be strong if it means God can't use me because my pride and selfish desires get in the way.  I don't want to be so afraid to show my weakness, that I miss every opportunity for God to show his strength through me. 

Maybe we should stop praying this: "Lord, bless me. Lord, make me stronger." 

Join me, & start praying this: "Lord, break me.  Lord, make me weak and be strong in me."

Warning: Written while under the influence (of exhaustion, a fever, and love songs)

This blog is an uncharacteristic one for me.  Actually, it's downright uncomfortable for me to post it.  Yet, here I am, for reasons I am completely unaware of except just a weird, sudden impulse, writing awkwardly about the mushy, weird, confusing, "you're the best thing that ever happened to me" kind of love.

(Don't worry, there are no current prospects--Haitian or otherwise--that I've been hiding from you.)

I just don't talk about this stuff a lot, especially on social media, so bear with me.

So tonight, I'm sick and exhausted and couldn't bring myself to do anything besides listen to my iPod. Until, I was listening to a song about love and it made me start thinking, and now an hour later I'm still awake, just starting to write this post reflecting those thoughts.

If you know me very well, you probably know that most of the time, I'm perfectly content with being single.  In fact, I feel like I'd be okay if I never got married.  Well, I know I would, because if it's not God's will for me, He will have something even more rewarding and fulfilling.  Yet, on nights like tonight, I find myself clinging to the faint hope that one day God will bring that guy my way.  

I've never been very big on dating.  I haven't had many long or serious relationships.  And especially now, I'm to the point in my life where I really don't want to date anymore.  If you're anything like me, you've heard people say that before and thought, "How can you know who you want to marry if you don't date?"  I feel like I understand a little better now.

I had a guy say these words to me in the past, "I want the next girl I date to be the one I marry." I was okay with that and didn't question it because he made me believe that I could be that girl.  That was not the case.

Since then, and even before then (I won't give him more credit than he deserves), I have been somewhat of a skeptic about all things regarding romantic relationships.  I hate that, because not only does it affect my view of men and of my own future, but it even affects how I view others' relationships, even those of my family and friends.

It's an issue and area of my life that God is still working on and I still wait and pray for complete freedom from the bitterness and doubt that are the products of past experiences.   

I know that the Father gives good and perfect gifts to his children, and I am able to trust and believe that promise in almost every area of my life except the area of relationships. Whether or not He sees fit in the future to send a good gift to me in the form of a husband, I have no idea.

However, I feel assured that if that man comes my way eventually, I will know it is him because of the way that he loves me with the pure, unconditional kind of love that only comes from God.  And I believe that God will use that love to change my skeptical heart into a believing one.

Every Captive Free

It's funny (not the laughing kind of funny, though) that I always get the most inspiration to blog at night when I am so tired I don't think I can stay awake for another five minutes. Wednesday night was one of those nights.  I tried to save what I could of my inspiration to a hidden reserve in my brain set aside specifically for blog posts before I lapsed into unconsciousness.  This is the result:

It had been a fairly normal Wednesday.

School with the kids.

Loving on babies and kids downstairs in the ICU.

Helping make homemade pizza for our weekly meetings where we have a meal and a devotion time.

Devouring said pizza and enjoying every bite.

Listening and being encouraged as Allison read from Ephesians and reminded us of the importance of putting on the armor of God.

NEOPOLITAN ICE CREAM. Yes.

Coming back and squishing packets of medika mamba. **Fun fact for the day: Medika mamba is nutrient-rich peanut butter that many of the malnourished kids here eat to help them start gaining weight. They eat a certain amount daily, depending on their weight, and the packets of peanut butter have to be squished so it is softer. Then, it is measured out and put into separate containers for the next day. There are thirty-something kids here on medika mamba right now.**

Going downstairs again to visit the kids for a few minutes before bed, in hopes of going to sleep earlier and getting some much-needed rest.

Those hopes were dashed when I sat down and put a little boy named Stanley in my lap.  This little boy came to Real Hope for Haiti not too long ago, maybe a week or two.  He was one of the skinniest and sickest-looking kids I've seen. He looked like he didn't stand a chance, to put it bluntly. (This link has a picture of him when he first came in, along with all the other kids admitted recently. He is the last one on the list.)  New admits this past week at RHFH 

Everything was just fine until I tried to lay Stanley down on the cot and go back upstairs. He started crying as soon as I set his head down (as kids often do).  Instead of picking him back up or just leaving him to cry, I leaned over beside him and started singing in his ear. I have a few go-to songs that I sing to the kids most often. They're not lullabies. They're not cutesy kids songs. They're not in Creole. They are just worship songs that I love and that give me hope while hopefully comforting the kids as well.  One of those songs is "Every Captive Free" by Matt Gilman. By the time I got to this song, I had already sung two others, Stanley was whimpering barely and looking sleepy, and I was just thinking "I can probably get away with sneaking upstairs in a few minutes."  Until I started paying attention to what I was singing. 

For the Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me

Because He has anointed Me to preach good news

To take away all of your sorrow and your mourning

To give the oil of joy and a garment of praise

For I have seen you in your captivity

And I will open up every prison door

So arise and shine for your light has come

And My glory is rising upon you

And I am dancing over you

And I am singing over you songs of deliverance

And I will set every captive free

And you will be with Me

And I have carried the weight of all your iniquity

I've carried the burden of all your shame 

And I've called you by name, I've called you by name

And you are Mine

Somewhere in the middle of the song, I started no longer singing a song out of habit, but looking at Stanley and singing those words with full assurance that what I was saying was true. It broke me.

By the time Stanley's tears had dried, my own were flowing steadily. I had to stop singing because I was so overwhelmed with God's presence that I could not stop crying. I sat there, looking down at Stanley, him looking up at me, and more than ever before, I felt the weight of God's promise to set every captive free.

All over the world, there are captives.  Right now, there are 27 million people on the earth who are victims of slavery and human trafficking.  The number of slaves on earth is even greater if you consider those held by chains not seen with the eye.

Hunger

Sin

Sickness

Poverty

Pain

Depression

Anger

Fear

Where does the list end? I haven't figured it out. But I do know that there will come a day when all captivity will end, once and for all, for those who love God and believe in His son whom He sent. I can't fathom it with my limited human mind, but I believe it with all my heart.

Isaiah 61:1

"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound..."

As I sang those words over the fragile little boy in front of me, I felt a longing for the reality when those words will completely and forever be fulfilled.

"I will set every captive free, and you will be with Me."

That is God's promise.  I am resting on that promise, and that is my hope. 

Stanley

A Day in the Life...

The ins and outs and ups and downs of my day today: 

--Actually, first, let me just tell you that last night was my first time to sleep in this house all by myself. 
Random things that frightened me:

• My phone ringing once and then stopping, not showing a missed call. 
• The freezer door creaking open at an obscure hour. (Still don't know who that was.)
• A lightning bug. (Yeah yeah, I know. But they're different here! They stay lit for like 30 seconds at a time and fly around at approximately 45 mph. I had just turned the light off to try and go to sleep when I see a small speck of light darting around the room! I might have thought it was an orb... and then I might have slept with the closet light on until 3:30 AM when I woke up again and assumed the lightning bug was gone...)

NOW, on to today's adventures.

Woke up to the sun shining in through my window and not my alarm clock. (That was nice.)

Read some Job & did some journal writing on the living room couch. (Also nice.)

Decided to break down some medicine boxes for the clinic. (Consists of opening a box and taking medicine out of their individual boxes and condensing it to save room.) 

Break for lunch. Beans and rice with hot dogs on top. 

Back to breaking up boxes. Two girls I don't know come sit down on the couch with me and start helping without saying a word. I ask them their names (Ericia & Jenika) and about all the other questions I know how to ask in Creole, which isn't really very many.

We continue working on the boxes. Before long, there are no longer 3 of us working on the boxes, but TWELVE people in this small living room opening boxes and sorting medicine. Eleven of those said people are Haitians, between the ages of infant baby from the ICU (She wasn't actually helping sort) and 16 years old, and they are all speaking Creole to each other very loudly. Guess who was the awkward, silent, but appreciative white girl of the group...:)

We work like this for a couple of hours in a chaotic, loud, messy, yet functional assembly line of sorts and I try to ignore the dozens of times that I hear the word "Blan" in their conversation. 

***Blan means white, and if you are a white person in Haiti, you will probably be called this about 5 times more often than your actual name. 

(They don't always mean it in a negative way, but nonetheless, if your skin were purple, would you want to be called "Purple" in place of your name? ...Okay, maybe, but this is different!)

After this, I go downstairs and visit with the ICU kids and nannies for a few minutes. The nannies want to do my hair. (Do you remember my recent blog post when I mentioned my hair doesn't look good in braids?) So of course I say yes, but they can do it tomorrow. No, I won't post a picture.

Next, I walk home with Allison to their new house to see it for the first time. Very pretty. (Almost as impressive as the spaghetti with Italian sausage that we had for dinner.) Helped wash some dishes, which was actually really enjoyable because it reminded me of home.

Watched Ironman (my first time seeing it) with the family, and then got a ride home on their family motorcycle. Thanks again, Garrett family! :)

Came in and sat downstairs with the ICU kids again for a while. My little buddy Malange can't get rid of this fever and it worries me. Please pray for her and the other sick kids.

You know it's been a long day when you're sitting in the ICU holding a sleeping kid and smell something strange, but can't decide if it's buttered popcorn or another dirty diaper...(Still not sure what it was, but I never laid eyes or hands on any popcorn. Can't say the same about the latter...)

And on that note...

Time for bed.

Rojidner.

Today marks 4 weeks that I have been living at Real Hope for Haiti. Yesterday, another baby died. That makes seven. 7 kids who I have seen, and touched, and prayed for, and hoped that they would make it. 

Numbers are unfeeling though. They don't affect our hearts. Names do. Names and faces.

I want to introduce you to a name and a face who was very precious to me.

Rojidner

This is Rojidner.  He was brought to Real Hope for Haiti about a week before I got here. 2 years old, 18 pounds with an awful fungal infection and a mild case of kwashiorkor.  He wasn't a particularly happy little boy.  In fact, I never saw him smile once.  The only times I ever heard him speak he was asking for water.  But somehow, sometime during the few weeks I spent with him, this little boy captured my heart. 

One Sunday, I brought him upstairs from the ICU to my room.  We sat on my bed and I tried my hardest to get him to look and feel a little less miserable.  I pulled out a toy car that I'd packed and he held it for a second, but then proceeded to throw it on the floor.  Despite my best efforts, the kid wouldn't smile or even show the least bit of interest in anything I tried to entertain him with. Finally, I just gave up and we sat there together.  Before long, he stood up, walked over in front of me and put his arms around my neck and hung on.  I knew that couldn't be too comfortable for him because he was still standing up, so I tried turning him around and sitting him in my lap. That lasted about 2 seconds before he turned back around and again put his arms around my neck, head on my shoulder, and stood there. By this time, I was laughing. He was persistent, but after several tries, I eventually got him to cuddle up in my lap where he could sit down and fall asleep. And fall asleep he did.

The next Sunday was a little different. He had been sick since Wednesday. He was put on IV fluids and oxygen and was running a high fever. His heart was racing and he struggled to breathe, taking short quick breaths. When I would go downstairs and sit with him, I always put his feet in my lap. He needed to stay laying down so his IV would continue dripping, even though he fought this and wanted to be held. His hands had to be in socks and pinned to his diaper so that he wouldn't rip out his IV or his oxygen tube. One day, soon after he first had his hands pinned like this, I sat down on his cot and put his feet in my lap. Soon, his feet found their way to my neck and my face. At first, I thought that he was pushing me away. Being visibly in a lot of pain, it didn't seem unreasonable that he might not want to be touched or bothered. But after I moved and he started crying more, I realized that he wasn't pushing me away, he was trying to hold on to me. I immediately pictured the Sunday before when he hadn't been content to just sit on the bed next to me or in my lap; he had needed to be able to hold on to me himself and make sure I was still there. That Sunday he felt comforted by having his arms around my neck; this Sunday, without the luxury of having his hands free, his comfort was found by keeping his feet touching my face. I didn't mind one bit. 

Last Monday morning, around 1 o'clock in the afternoon, Rojidner died.  I was sad and glad and relieved and disappointed all at once.  Of course, selfishly, I wanted him to live.  I still wish he was here with me.  But truthfully, he is more alive now in heaven than he ever was or ever could have been on this earth.  He will never be miserable again.  He will never feel pain again.  He will never have to go hungry again, for food or for love.  He is now and will always be held in the loving arms of his true and perfect Father, and he will have joy forevermore.

I can't show you a picture of Rojidner this week, but I can guarantee that if I could, he would look happier than he ever has.  I am grateful that I was able to touch his life in a small way and be touched by his in return. I never imagined that loving and losing would be this hard, but it is worth it. Rojidner was worthy of love, and it was worth every minute spent, every tear cried, and every time my heart broke to show him that. 

I put my heart on the line in a small way in loving these children and getting attached, knowing that some of them will die. Others will go home with their parents, and I won't see them again. 

Jesus put his heart on the line in a big way. Every single day, he is rejected by those whom he loves so much that he was willing to die for them.  Every single day, his heart breaks for the people who are lost, not just to death, but to eternal death and separation from him. If anyone knows about loving and losing, it is Jesus. He risked it all and spent everything He had to show us that He calls us worthy of love.  I will embrace loving and losing if it means becoming more like Him. 

Philippians 3:10 "That I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death.."

Confession: I'm not really Haitian...

Sometimes I like to pretend that I'm a Haitian. But I'm not. 

And here's why:

I'm not really Haitian because...I don't like rice and beans. I have no appetite for them...or, to be completely honest...much of the Haitian food at all. I've eaten more cookies in the past few days than substantial food. 

I'm not really Haitian because...I have running water. And a real toilet.

I'm not really Haitian because...if I was, I would like Rihanna and Justin Bieber much more than I actually do.

I'm not really Haitian because...I have white skin. Embarrassing and regrettably white, especially when I'm surrounded by so many beautiful brown people. (You'd think a person should get more tan in a tropical climate, but I just get whiter.)

I'm not really Haitian because...My hair doesn't look good in braids. Trust me, I've tried. Multiple times. Proof:

I'm not really Haitian because...The rats still scare me. 

I'm not really Haitian because...there is NO way I could carry one of those 5-gallon buckets full of water on my head without dropping it or breaking my neck.

I'm not really Haitian because...I don't speak Creole. And what little I do know probably comes out tainted by an Arkansas accent.

I'm not really Haitian because...I'm kind of fascinated by the pig(s) that live right outside my bedroom window.

I'm not really Haitian because...Tampico is still gross to me.

I'm not really Haitian because...if I was REALLY Haitian, I would take a bath in the river in broad daylight just like everyone else.

I'm not really Haitian because...I'm not used to views like this:

I'm not really Haitian because...when I hear the word "taxi," I think about a yellow car in New York and not a small motorcycle with 4 people piled on it.  

I'm not really Haitian because...when I see a goat, I still think, "Aww, cute!" instead of "Mmm, dinner." (Even though they are delicious.)

I'm not really Haitian because...I've never lived through a 7.0 magnitude earthquake.

I'm not really Haitian because...I have never known what it feels like to be hungry or to go to sleep at night not knowing whether I will have anything to eat the next day.

I'm not really Haitian because...I don't know how to cook anything over a charcoal fire.

I'm not really Haitian because...I can't imagine what it would be like to have to walk 9 hours to a clinic in order to get help for my child who is dying of malnutrition. 

I'm not really Haitian because...I'm not mentally, physically, or emotionally as strong as these ladies who take care of sick kids 12 hours a day, and then go home and care for their own families as well.

I'm not really Haitian because...I was raised having everything I could ever need; never having to wonder if my water was safe to drink, if I would be able to afford to go to the 3rd grade, or if my parents would ever be so poor they might be forced to abandon me.

Basically, I'm not really Haitian because I could never deal with what the average Haitian deals with and be as strong as they are. But it some sense of the word, I am Haitian.

I am Haitian in the sense that I love this country and this people like they were my own.

I am Haitian in the sense that I see every man and woman and boy and girl here as if they were my brothers and sisters, because really and truly, they are.

I am Haitian in the sense that I have so much respect for these people, so much love for them that I would leave my own family, friends, and home to move here and try to fit into this culture that is so foreign from my own, so different and scary and sad, but yet so beautiful and exciting and full of hope.

I am so blessed to be able to say that I have had the privilege of knowing some of these incredible people who call themselves Haitian, but more than that, they call themselves children of God. GOD, who is the God of Haiti and America and Israel and every other nation, tribe, and tongue that has ever existed. I may not be able to say that I am Haitian, but because of God's love, I can call these people who have so inspired, challenged, and changed me, family.

"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who has called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy."   1 Peter 2:9-10

                                                 

Hindsight is 20/20.

From June 7th, 2012

Can I just brag on God for a minute? I don’t take enough time to talk about how amazing he is.

I’m so overwhelmed by him lately. It’s incredible to me how he knows me better than I know myself. He knows exactly what it takes to guide me and correct me until I’m on the path he has prepared for me.

This past year has been a really difficult season for me, and in the midst of it, I had no idea why things were happening the way they were and why I felt the way I did. I never thought of it as God’s discipline…until tonight.

The distress and unrest that I experienced during that time just seemed like an inconvenient but inevitable feeling that I would have to learn to live with. Until I finally woke up and realized that God was calling me to make a change.

I won’t go into details right now, but my life will be changing quite a bit very soon. Good changes, but hard ones too. The thing that amazes me so much though is looking back at the uncertain, confusing times and realizing God ordained that time of “discipline” so that I would reach a place of complete desperation, which would lead to obedience. And that obedience will lead to complete joy and fulfillment.

Hindsight is 20/20 I guess. But with God, even when we’re in the middle of suffering or can’t seem to catch a break, we can trust that there is a purpose for the trial. We can trust that God really does work all things together for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

I’m just so thankful for that.

νενίκηκα - to conquer, prevail

From May 9th, 2012

I think sometimes I forget that Jesus has overcome the world.  Maybe I remember, but I only believe it in a far-off, mystical sense that doesn’t really apply in my daily life.

Here’s a thought.  If He has overcome the world, that means he has overcome the world’s sin.  Which means he has overcome my sin.  My complete depravity is not a threat to him.  My sin—which is disgusting and revolting and ever-present even when I hate it so much—can’t hold a candle to the power of His blood. 

He overcame it all. Where do I get off believing and acting as though my sin is too much for Him?  To live in condemnation, a slave to my sin, is to deny Jesus’ power and to forsake the truth of this statement:

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace.  In the world you will have tribulation.  But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 (ESV) 

This is not a new revelation, or something that I’ve never thought of before.  But somehow, even though I say I believe that Jesus has already won, I still act as though there is no hope for me.  The truth of that verse changes everything. 

To live in shame is not believing that Jesus is who He claims to be.  It is discounting the sacrifice He made on the cross.

Everyday I have to set my heart on Him, reminding myself of what He’s accomplished in overcoming the world.

“And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6

Day 2.

From December 8th, 2011

Day 2 in Haiti (5/14/11)

I slept surprisingly well last night.  I woke up early in the morning when it was still dark, though, and had to go to the bathroom.  When I got in the bathroom I saw a big spider above the door.  When the door shut, it disappeared and I thought it had jumped on me.  I freaked out a little, and started brushing myself off as quickly as I could.  Then I saw it in a crack above the door.  When I went back to sleep, I had dreams about spider bites.

I love these people.  This morning we went to the kids’ club.  It’s kinda like a vacation Bible school.  They sang sangs, danced, recited poems.  Then they said in English, “We wish you welcome. Hello everybody!”  We went up and introduced ourselves and I said “Bonjou, Mweh rele Kristen.” The translator told them I was glad to be here. 

The kids are absolutely precious.  I picked one girl up and held her on my hip so she could see the game they were playing, and she didn’t want to get down.  Several others started trying to get me to hold them after that.  We passed out gum to each of them and they loved it.  They kept saying, “chiclets!” This one little boy who looked like a toddler was especially adorable.  His name is Adley.  He repeated everything Tyler said, including all of our names.  He was wearing cute little overalls—his butt was showing the whole time!  Even though these people have so little, they wanted to show their appreciation and gave us several coconuts.  We all passed them around, sharing them with the kids and each other.  Later we are going to the orphanage.

I remember.

From December 4th, 2011

Day 1 in Haiti. (5/13/11)

We’re getting ready to go to bed and my mind is just overwhelmed. I’ve seen so much already and we haven’t even started the work.  The flights were pretty good. I like flying besides the pressure during take-off and when landing. The pressure in my ears has just left after having been off the plane since probably 3 or 3:30 today. 

Already, I’ve heard statistics, seen the destruction the earthquake caused, seen the poverty.  As soon as I was leaving the airport in Haiti to meet Roody, a man with only one arm started talking to me.  He waved and said, “I was sick,” and pointed to the place where his left arm used to be.  I’m guessing he was going to ask for money, but I was rushed away before I could talk to him any more.  It’s so hard not to want to help every single person I see and give them money or just let them tell me about their lives.

I hate that, as an American, I’m so spoiled and desensitized to the reality that people really live like this.  I pray that God will tenderize my heart and help me to have compassion and to be broken for these people—even when my selfish nature wants to crawl inside my comfortable shell and not believe that this is real, and it very well could’ve been me.  I could’ve been the one living in a makeshift tent.  I could’ve been the one earning only $6 a day—not even enough to buy 2 meals for one person. I could be one of the estimated 90% who live unemployed and don’t know how I’m going to make it from day to day.  I very well could’ve been the kid running alongside cars as they drive, tapping the windows, begging for just 1 dollar. 

But I wasn’t. And I’m asking God why.  He loves these people just as much as he loves me.  Why am I seemingly so much more blessed? I don’t know the answer. All I can say right now is thank you, Jesus. You’re always good.

I'd rather be...

From October 31st, 2011

My last post was about being fully present wherever you are. We all know that sometimes your own advice is the hardest to take…

All I can think about right now is how much I’d rather be in Haiti.

I miss it. I miss them.

I want to go back and hold the orphans again. I want to pump water from a well for people living in a tent village. I want to play the slap game with kids who don’t understand a word I say. I want to eat fresh pineapple. I want to learn about the life of a teenager who’s dealt with more struggles in a couple of years than I probably will in my whole life. I want to have church under the mango tree. I want to tell kids the story of creation and Noah’s ark.  I want to ride in the mountains in the bed of a pickup truck. I want to say “Bonswa” to everyone I see. I want to hear a little Haitian girl sing worship songs she’s learned in English.

I think the thing that scares me the most is how quickly I was able to go back to business as usual after seeing the devastation, the hopelessness of those people. I go for days without a single one of those faces crossing my mind, so caught up in all my own problems that I lose sight of how fortunate I am. I can’t let myself forget. I can’t let those faces fade out of my memory or completely let go of the burden I felt for the hurting ones.

"Wherever you are, be all there."

From September 4th, 2011

I’m not sure who said those words or where I heard them, but for some reason I was reminded of them tonight. When I began to think about what those words mean, I started to feel convicted as I realized how often I’m in my own little world. Do I truly give my all in everything I do? Absolutely not. Is that acceptable? Absolutely not.

I very rarely get “lost in the moment.” It seems like there are always other things going on in the back of my mind. Hardly ever do I give my full attention to whatever I’m doing at the time.

As a Christian, a lot of times I reflect on my life and consider what things I should be doing that I’m not and what things I do that I shouldn’t be. While that is important, I think in my searching for what God’s calling me to in the near or more distant future, I have essentially forgotten to actually commit to what I’ve committed to, to do what I’m doing, to be who I am.

Instead of begging God to show me what his plan is for my life, I’m changing my approach a little. I’m going to be faithful with what he’s given me for now. That way he can say this: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!” (Matthew 25:21)

Maybe instead of getting by with good grades in school, I should really try to learn all I can. Maybe instead of coasting with my friendships, I should be intentional about making friends and keeping them. Maybe instead of looking out for my best interests, I should esteem others as higher than myself and place their needs before mine. Maybe I should try to be more like Jesus. That is kind of the whole point of this thing, right? And I’m pretty sure he didn’t do anything without his heart completely in it.

It doesn’t matter whether I’m studying. It doesn’t matter whether I’m hanging out and having fun. It doesn’t matter whether I’m praying or reading the Bible. I have to constantly strive to do everything just as Jesus would. I have to give 110%. Because he’s worth it. And he deserves it.

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31

What does that even look like? How do you really know if you are “doing it all for the glory of God?” I’m not sure, but I do know this. No longer will he have to settle for my half-hearted effort. With the constant help of his grace and strength, I’m all in.

The Bigger Picture.

From August 11th, 2011

It’s pretty amazing when God allows me to take a step back from my selfishness and narrow perspective and see a small glimpse of the bigger picture.

It happens rarely. Most of the time I stay blinded by my current circumstances, bitterness, doubts, or situations in my past that I think I will never understand.

But every once in a while, God graces me with the ability to really see his fingerprints ALL up in those events that caused me pain or the times that I was confused. He shows me the joy he eventually brought me from the initial disappointment; freedom from the shame; healing from the hurt. The times in my life when I most questioned why things were going wrong and why people were turning their backs on me are the times in my life that I am most thankful for now. They’re the times when I learned to depend on God and realized how much I really need him.

I wish I could say that I have this kind of perspective the majority of the time, but that’s definitely not the case. However, when it does happen, it reminds me how much more beautiful the bigger picture is.

While I don’t believe we’ll ever see the fullness of this verse in this life, these little glimpses remind me of Romans 8:28.

“And we know for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

His name is Jealous.

From August 16th, 2011

“He is jealous for me. Love’s like a hurricane; I am a tree, bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.” -John Mark McMillan

Most of us know this song. I know at my church we’ve probably sung it a dozen times. It’s a song with beautiful lyrics and amazing imagery.

But how often do we sing those first few lines with no real heart connect, our hearts hardened by sin and unbelief. He really is jealous for you, and that doesn’t just mean he likes you a lot. He BURNS for you. His eyes are a flame of fire, burning with love for us. That love is so intense and so real that it hurts him when we place other things before him. He longs for us in such a real way that his heart aches when we allow lesser pleasures to occupy our time. He’s fighting for us, every second of every day. Fighting off all the distractions and everything else trying to steal our affections and exalt themselves as god in our lives.

We need to let go of our inhibitions. Lay down our defenses. Open up and let God’s love truly overwhelm us to the point where all we want is Him.

He’s a jealous God. He will not settle for a fraction of your heart, one area of your life. He wants ALL. And he’s worthy.

Let the hurricane move you.
Bend beneath the weight.
Surrender.

“Do not worship any other god, for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God.” Exodus 34:14

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, it’s jealousy unyielding than the grave.
It burns like a blazing fire, like a might flame. Many waters cannot quench love, rivers cannot wash it away.” Song of Songs 7:5

You have a name that you are alive. You're DEAD.

From July 21st, 2011

I am sick of being a carbon-copy. I am tired of being a robot. I'm fed up with living brainwashed.

As Christians, we are called to live a life that is set apart. Consecrated. Holy.

If that's true, why do we look like the rest of the world? We talk like them, dress like them, date them, act like them. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying "them," talking about people who don't know Christ, in a disgusted way. Jesus loves the lost. We love Jesus, therefore, we love the lost. Jesus would rather hang out with the thieves and sinners over the prideful, religious snobs anyday. But let me say this: You are not loving the lost when you act just like them.

Most people I know that don't know Jesus are searching for something. And it is NOT a mirror image of themselves. They're looking for hope. Something or someone different than what they've known. Jesus is the most unique, different human being that ever walked the planet. He was, still is, and always will be perfect, sinless, merciful, compassionate, selfless even to the point of death on a cross.  And we're supposed to be his followers, we are supposed to reflect his light.

Whoa, whoa. Hold up. I'm supposed to look like THAT?! Yep.

If you're a Christian, Jesus-follower, lover of God, whatever label you want to put on it...you are called--COMMANDED even--to daily deny yourself, take up your cross and follow Jesus. (Matthew 16:24) You were chosen before the creation of the world to be holy & blameless in His sight. (Ephesians 1:4)

I'm challenging you (and myself) to be different. To live like we really believe this book that we say we've based our whole life on. I'm not saying be different for the sake of being different or starting a new trend. I'm saying be different for the sake of Christ. Be set apart for the sake of the one in whose image you were made.

It's about time we stop settling for face-value Christianity. It's time we start recognizing what we said "yes" to when we accepted Jesus as our Lord & Savior. It's time we cease to merely go to church on Sundays, and begin to be the church 24/7.

"Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says."  James 1:22

"I know your deeds; you have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your deeds complete in the sight of my God. Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard; obey it, and repent."  Revelation 3:1

We've been weighed, we've been measured, and we've been found wanting. Our deeds are not complete in the sight of our God. He's pleading with us to wake up and see our compromise, open up and feel his love, and grow up and follow the Lamb.

Only God Can Judge Me...?

From June 24th, 2011

This has been burning in me for a while, but since "Fear God" is now trending on twitter, I'm just gonna take this opportunity to voice my opinion.

We've all seen people with the tattoos that say "Only God Can Judge Me" or people who walk around saying that--meaning that they aren't scared of anyone or don't care what people think of them. I know there are some that say that and really mean it, but frankly, MOST of the people who use that line don't have any fear of God at all.

I am SICK of people using that phrase when they don't revere, respect, or honor God with their words or lives. If you really believe God is the only one who can judge you, START ACTING LIKE IT. Stop living in blatant sin and disregard for God's commands if you know that God is going to judge you.

When someone says those words, it should be a wake-up call to us: Yes, the most important being in existence will judge everyone according to what they've done. That should cause us to make sure our lives are in line with what Jesus taught and what His word says.

Instead, those words have become a fancy way to say: "I'm big and bad, and I don't care what you say--I'm living life the way I want to. Forget you!"  Am I right?

I may be coming across as angry or condemning, but really I just want people to wake up and realize that you can't throw those words around like they're nothing. What you're saying is true, and it's a heavy statement.

"The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done."
Revelation 20: 12-14

Those aren't words in a story, they're truth. It's reality. We need to be ready.

Where are you, God?

From June 16, 2011

I'm reading The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, and something he wrote just blew my mind.  Forreal, I think I had an epiphany.

So this is a highly-placed demon talking, and he's writing to his nephew(also a demon), who is on a mission to get a newly-converted Christian to turn his back on God and end up in hell. He's talking about God:

"You must have often wondered why the Enemy(God) does not make more use of His power to be sensibly present to human souls in any degree He chooses and at any moment.  But you now see that the Irresistible and the Indisputable are the two weapons which the very nature of His scheme forbids Him to use.  Merely to override a human will (as His felt presence in any but the faintest and most mitigated degree would do) would be for Him useless."

Wow. Just wow. I don't know why this never occurred to me before. But OF COURSE this is why God doesn't reveal himself more clearly to us. It makes perfect sense. If he was to really show us the fullness of his glory and his beauty, we would have no choice but to worship and adore him. It would be our immediate and automatic response. (That IS what we were made for.) But that's not his design, to force us to love him. He gives us free will. He wants us to choose him. That's why he withholds the fullness of his presence & power from us. Not only would we probably fall out dead because he is so holy, but if we did survive, we would be so caught up in his majesty that we wouldn't have the ability to reject him or choose our own way. He has to leave room for doubts-otherwise, we wouldn't really be choosing him or walking by faith. [[ "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for & certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1]] 

If God showed us himself fully or allowed us to "feel" his presence without holding back, he wouldn't really be exercising love. Love doesn't push itself on others. God is love. He won't push himself on us.

Some of you may have already come to this realization, but for me this just reassured me that when God doesn't speak audibly to me, or make me feel his love in a really strong way, he's doing it for my good. He's developing faith in me, and "without faith it is impossible to please God." (Heb 11:6)