Every once in awhile I can't sleep. It's during these times, late at night, when words come to me and I decide to post something. Tonight's one of those nights.
2:45am.
So, I got home two weeks ago.
As I rode down the escalator to baggage claim at the Detroit International Airport, I looked for them, and there they were--Mom and Dad--waiting. Eventually we untangled ourselves from our "I haven't seen you in 12 months" hugs, found my bag, bought a coffee (shocker) and began our drive home.
For some reason (one that I haven't quite been able to figure out yet) I try to summarize all the events that have happened to me in the 1 1/2 hour trip from the airport to my parents' house. Always. I was excited as I shared new stories and probably repeated old ones. Energy was flowing, let me tell you.
Then I walked through the doors of my house and it hit me. Exhaustion. Not just, "I need to sleep" exhaustion.
Something deeper. Fuller. Emptier. Stronger. Weaker.
And. for the first week at home, I found myself sobbing at the drop of a hat, for no apparent reason. It felt like a well that began in my stomach and rose--up and up and when it couldn't go any further, escaped through the old faithful tear ducts.
Who can understand it?
I think that's what Paul talks about when he wrote to the Romans and said that
"...the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words."
Strip away everything from me--family, friends, YWAM, church....and all that's left is a picture that I've had playing in my mind for awhile--me and God. And I am the weakest of all the weak. The dirtiest, the poorest, and the most unfaithful. And I'm seen. Unadulterated honesty. He just looks at me more deeply and intently than anyone has ever looked at me before. He sees me more clearly than anyone ever will.
And there it is.
In that moment, when it's His eyes on me, mine on His, there's a peace that comes that doesn't make any sense. And suddenly, I know. I know that no matter what happens, wherever I go, how I am, who I'm with, He'll be there. HE WILL BE THERE.
The prayers of the Spirit are completely in line with the will of the Father and Paul goes on to say in his letter that if that's true, what and who could possibly stand against us? Including ourselves.
My friend Becca wrote this awesome post on her blog Exile Fertility. She talks about how God is a God who gets down into our graves to pull us out. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty. He is in the relationship of death and resurrection. Over and over again--making all things new.
I'm finding more and more that the invitation God extends to me--to humanity--isn't about a debt being paid off to God for the rest of my life because He died for me. I think I live that way sometimes. Instead, I'm finding God's way more into showing me freedom in the life He created for the world. He had a design in mind. Full and whole. Love-filled.
Sometimes I let myself get caught up by fear and self-doubt and distrust of others. I avoid eye contact with God long enough to fool myself into thinking that He was the one who blinked first. I make the focus of my life the cost of it all.
"It's too high," I think, and suddenly, I find myself feeling very sorry for myself and oblivious of struggles and triumphs of the people around me. Instead I get consumed very easily with my own junk, when over and over again God says "Don't worry" and "Trust me, I'll help you, I'm helping you".
Sometimes I search for isolation like a security blanket. It's my grave talking, calling me back.
But then I realize He's seeing me--that He's always seeing me and loving me, asking if I'd like to experience more--know Him more. And as I see that He sees me, my eyes are opened again to the world around me. Suddenly, there's a clear passage for gratitude to flow out of my mouth, and I realize once again, that there is no one like Him. What God takes me to deeper depths and higher heights? Who is committed to making us better, loving us, walking with us?
He is a good God.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
Go
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us."
Last week, we took the DTS to YWAM Australia's National Leaders Meeting (NLM). Ever since I came on staff I've wanted to go to an NLM. People from all over Australia come together for 3-5 days of worship, prayer, teaching, and some good "catching up time".
These are incredible projects.
Inspiring.
Worth Honoring.
The stories are unbelievable.
These weren't what challenged me the most.
What made everything in me want to run harder, faster, stronger (Kanye, anyone?) was an 86 year old man I met last Wednesday night. We'll call him Phil.
Phil is a retired physician from Australia.
Any other normal 86 year old would be loving life in a retirement community right now. Chess anyone?
But Phil is loving life along the border of Thailand and Burma. About three times a year, Phil goes into villages and runs health clinics--teaching the community basic healthcare and lending his expertise.
When he comes to a mountain path he can't conquer on his way to teach, villagers pick him up and carry him the rest of the way.
What challenged me is a woman named Marion, who runs a fruit confectionery factory in Cambodia--employing victims of landmines. God invited her to go to open the business when she was 76 years old. She didn't have any prior knowledge about factory work before then.
What challenged me was the man who was asked by God to start Australian Mercy. The cost to do it was way too high in all respects. But he said "I'll do it anyway. I'm willing. Use me." Now, 25 years later, I watched this man as he soaked in what God has down and is continuing to do.
We don't have expiration dates.
God uses ANYONE who say's "I'm here! Use me!"
And He'll do something amazing.
The cost is always high.
The payoff outweighs it.
The payoff is God getting the glory!
It's transformation.
It's the best relationship.
The best insight I've ever received into running with, to, and after God is that
the question is never "Is it worth it? But is He worthy? And the answer is always yes."
These are the people who inspire me--who challenge me to dive into the Word, to persevere, and to grab hold of and soak in the joy of it all.
He is a beautiful God.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
thoughts on homesickness, being together, and excellent parents
Let me say, first, that I am grateful for Skype.
Whoever took the idea of video conferencing and made it a reality, thank you. I'm sure you'll see this.
I have a million thank-you's to this technology because it lets me see, face to face, the people who knew me first. That's right, Mom and Dad.
This week, I was homesick. It was a subtle build-up that rose and rose and hit me with the force of a crashing wave. I curled up in my bed on Sunday night and decided I was ready to go home because this was too hard.
The truth is that living far away from my country and family is sad sometimes. Living in a bright pink house and sharing life and training and mobilizing people into missions seemed like an exciting and romantic thought. Then I stayed awhile and the honeymoon ended and real life settled in and made itself comfortable.
I found out that consistent communication is not what most would call a strength of mine.
I compare myself to other people.
There's a lot of me ready, too quickly, to give up on relationships that get hard.
Sometimes I get sick of the masses of people around me all the time.
I get overwhelmed by money and my total lack of it.
Sometimes...I want to ignore God and quit.
And I feel bad.
But then, I talked to the two who know me best. They are familiar with my happy faces, with my laughs, with my tears, and with my "angry walk" (apparently I have one). They don't leave my "I'm great's" alone if I'm clearly not. And constantly they point me upwards.
God is incredible for designing parents, reflections of His own character towards us--nurturing, encouraging, championing, and comforting.
Yesterday, I talked to my Dad. He heard my tears coming before he saw them and listened as I told him, with runny nose and puffy eyes, that I was scared to come home because surely no one would want to hear from me, but I really wanted to come home because this whole thing was becoming too much.
And when I stopped, my Dad just loved me. He reminded me that emotions are only emotions--that homesickness is okay, that God always comes through when He calls us into something.
Then I remembered.
I remembered that God told me to come here. So I did.
I remembered how much I'm learning about the uniqueness He's put in me and remembered that I find my identity in Him.
I remembered that while I find it hard to fight for relationships, more often than not, I do fight. And I'm getting better at it. People love me and I love them.
I remember that God always meets me financially. Always. Every time.
And I remember that I'll never quit, because while it's hard, the life I get to live is exciting and romantic. I get to walk in my calling and strengths everyday! I get to see people learn and grow and transform before my eyes every day.
I am a story of discovery and intrigue and heartbreak--of losses and enormous triumph-- and the story is beautiful. It's one of hope and faith and love and war and shalom rising up in me, painted in colors not yet discovered or imagined by humanity.
And when the doubts come and winds blow and I'm curled up in my bed, ready to fly home, I remember that all around me are people who I love and who love me back and together we journey and trust in the fulfillment of promises that have yet to come to pass but made by the One whose name is Completer and Fulfiller.
Whoever took the idea of video conferencing and made it a reality, thank you. I'm sure you'll see this.
I have a million thank-you's to this technology because it lets me see, face to face, the people who knew me first. That's right, Mom and Dad.
This week, I was homesick. It was a subtle build-up that rose and rose and hit me with the force of a crashing wave. I curled up in my bed on Sunday night and decided I was ready to go home because this was too hard.
The truth is that living far away from my country and family is sad sometimes. Living in a bright pink house and sharing life and training and mobilizing people into missions seemed like an exciting and romantic thought. Then I stayed awhile and the honeymoon ended and real life settled in and made itself comfortable.
I found out that consistent communication is not what most would call a strength of mine.
I compare myself to other people.
There's a lot of me ready, too quickly, to give up on relationships that get hard.
Sometimes I get sick of the masses of people around me all the time.
I get overwhelmed by money and my total lack of it.
Sometimes...I want to ignore God and quit.
And I feel bad.
But then, I talked to the two who know me best. They are familiar with my happy faces, with my laughs, with my tears, and with my "angry walk" (apparently I have one). They don't leave my "I'm great's" alone if I'm clearly not. And constantly they point me upwards.
God is incredible for designing parents, reflections of His own character towards us--nurturing, encouraging, championing, and comforting.
Yesterday, I talked to my Dad. He heard my tears coming before he saw them and listened as I told him, with runny nose and puffy eyes, that I was scared to come home because surely no one would want to hear from me, but I really wanted to come home because this whole thing was becoming too much.
And when I stopped, my Dad just loved me. He reminded me that emotions are only emotions--that homesickness is okay, that God always comes through when He calls us into something.
Then I remembered.
I remembered that God told me to come here. So I did.
I remembered how much I'm learning about the uniqueness He's put in me and remembered that I find my identity in Him.
I remembered that while I find it hard to fight for relationships, more often than not, I do fight. And I'm getting better at it. People love me and I love them.
I remember that God always meets me financially. Always. Every time.
And I remember that I'll never quit, because while it's hard, the life I get to live is exciting and romantic. I get to walk in my calling and strengths everyday! I get to see people learn and grow and transform before my eyes every day.
I am a story of discovery and intrigue and heartbreak--of losses and enormous triumph-- and the story is beautiful. It's one of hope and faith and love and war and shalom rising up in me, painted in colors not yet discovered or imagined by humanity.
And when the doubts come and winds blow and I'm curled up in my bed, ready to fly home, I remember that all around me are people who I love and who love me back and together we journey and trust in the fulfillment of promises that have yet to come to pass but made by the One whose name is Completer and Fulfiller.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
When I don't know where to start, I'll talk about loud noises...
For the past two weeks, I've wanted to write something incredibly interesting. "What can I write about?" I'd think to myself and the possibilities would flood my mind, making me a little bit dizzy and, in the end, too overwhelmed to know where to start.
After weeks, I knew I had to write something. But what about my day to day could I share? Well, shout-out to my super-creative, awesome roommate, Sarah for a great suggestion!
Get comfortable, folks, as I tell you
It was 2am. I had just snuggled into my bed and closed my eyes for some good old sleep time when a loud noise pulled me from my much desired rest. As I sat up in bed wondering if I had just imagined it, the horrible noise, similar to a dying elephant or hippo, made its presence known again. Over and over and over. It was difficult, in my sleep-deprived state, to figure out where the sound was coming from and naturally I was a bit concerned. My first move was to, of course, lock the door--I did not want the responsibility of caring for a dying giant at 2am (I would have been zero help anyway, as I have no experience in this field).
My next move was to wake my roommate. It took some doing, but eventually she woke up. Together we listened, afraid, for a moment, that the sound was actually coming from our bathroom (a terrifying thought). It was not. After a few minutes, with the security of our bedroom door locked, we went back to bed.
5:30am.
My roommate was whispering my name and I sat up to see her standing in the middle of our room.
"It's still going!," she said.
We were annoyed. We were being robbed of our sleep again. In one night! There was only one thing left to do. Search for the dying elephant.
It sounded like it was coming from above, so we went upstairs. Then it sounded like it was coming from below. Then from all sides. We could not find the source anywhere.
Sarah began to pray that God would finish the poor dying animal off so we could get some rest.
"Maybe it's a pipe?" She suggested. Neither of us were convinced as we drifted off sleep.
The next morning, the mysterious loud sound that sounded like a dying elephant, but was probably just a pipe, was a large topic of conversation.
Though there are many opinions, the truth is not yet known. And as I prepare to, once again, drift off to sleep, I can't help wonder, "Will the noise return tonight?"
THE END.
After weeks, I knew I had to write something. But what about my day to day could I share? Well, shout-out to my super-creative, awesome roommate, Sarah for a great suggestion!
Get comfortable, folks, as I tell you
"The Tale of the Mysterious Loud Noise (that sounded like a dying elephant, but was probably just a pipe...)"
It was 2am. I had just snuggled into my bed and closed my eyes for some good old sleep time when a loud noise pulled me from my much desired rest. As I sat up in bed wondering if I had just imagined it, the horrible noise, similar to a dying elephant or hippo, made its presence known again. Over and over and over. It was difficult, in my sleep-deprived state, to figure out where the sound was coming from and naturally I was a bit concerned. My first move was to, of course, lock the door--I did not want the responsibility of caring for a dying giant at 2am (I would have been zero help anyway, as I have no experience in this field).
My next move was to wake my roommate. It took some doing, but eventually she woke up. Together we listened, afraid, for a moment, that the sound was actually coming from our bathroom (a terrifying thought). It was not. After a few minutes, with the security of our bedroom door locked, we went back to bed.
5:30am.
My roommate was whispering my name and I sat up to see her standing in the middle of our room.
"It's still going!," she said.
We were annoyed. We were being robbed of our sleep again. In one night! There was only one thing left to do. Search for the dying elephant.
It sounded like it was coming from above, so we went upstairs. Then it sounded like it was coming from below. Then from all sides. We could not find the source anywhere.
Sarah began to pray that God would finish the poor dying animal off so we could get some rest.
"Maybe it's a pipe?" She suggested. Neither of us were convinced as we drifted off sleep.
The next morning, the mysterious loud sound that sounded like a dying elephant, but was probably just a pipe, was a large topic of conversation.
Though there are many opinions, the truth is not yet known. And as I prepare to, once again, drift off to sleep, I can't help wonder, "Will the noise return tonight?"
THE END.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
First Aussie Post!
Whoa! Not one blog post since I moved to Australia! Please forgive me. Let's connect! For those of you who don't get monthly updates, let me catch you up. I am currently working in base operations for the Hospitality/Community Life ministry team. We have had lots of people coming to visit us at the base this past month, which has kept our team busy preparing rooms, cleaning rooms, doing laundry, etc. I am also the mail girl at the moment! Whoot-whoot! I love it. :)
On March 19, I traveled up to Newcastle (about 3 hours north of our YWAM location in Wollongong) for staff training, aka "Phase 1" for about two weeks. Because YWAM schools, including Discipleship Training Schools, are accredited through the University of the Nations, Australia requires us to go through Training and Assessment courses. For just under $400, I received training that others pay thousands of dollars for.
Top notch stuff? Yes. Mind melting? Slightly. BUT all 11 students survived and are still surviving as we continue to work through our assignments back home on the base. :)
Things here are crazy. God is on the move and He is walking YWAM Wollongong into new things. A theme that has come up over and over again is "new beginnings". So it's very exciting, and I can't wait to share these things with you as the days and months go on!
Thank you for your prayers and e-mails! They are amazing! Keep them coming! Here are some pictures from Phase 1. Enjoy! :)
On March 19, I traveled up to Newcastle (about 3 hours north of our YWAM location in Wollongong) for staff training, aka "Phase 1" for about two weeks. Because YWAM schools, including Discipleship Training Schools, are accredited through the University of the Nations, Australia requires us to go through Training and Assessment courses. For just under $400, I received training that others pay thousands of dollars for.
Top notch stuff? Yes. Mind melting? Slightly. BUT all 11 students survived and are still surviving as we continue to work through our assignments back home on the base. :)
Things here are crazy. God is on the move and He is walking YWAM Wollongong into new things. A theme that has come up over and over again is "new beginnings". So it's very exciting, and I can't wait to share these things with you as the days and months go on!
Thank you for your prayers and e-mails! They are amazing! Keep them coming! Here are some pictures from Phase 1. Enjoy! :)
Saturday, February 18, 2012
IT CAME!!
Here's what I want to say instead.
THANK YOU!
To all of you who prayed for me as I tried to wait patiently, thank you. To all of you who contended for my visa, thank you. To all of you who gave me amazing words of encouragement along the way, thank you. To all who took a step of faith and gave financially during the wait, thank you.
You are the ones launching me into ministry. You are making this amazing life for me possible.
Wednesday morning found me celebrating.
Wednesday afternoon found me overwhelmed.
I don't deserve you all. I don't deserve your friendship or support or love.
But I am so grateful that we serve a God who delights in giving us things we don't deserve. ALL THE TIME!
So, thank you for letting God work in your hearts. Your transformation is contagious! I love you all!
Let's go to Australia!
*I haven't bought a plane ticket yet, since we're still trying to figure out the best day for me to leave. I do know that it won't be until March 3 at the earliest. SO, if you'd like to get together and drink coffee/tea, eat, or just stare at each other uncomfortably, I would love to do the first two! E-mail, Facebook, phone calls are all great ways to get a hold of me!
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Ah! The coffee bean...
I really really like coffee. Ask anyone. I'm not dependent (not anymore) but drinking a pot is not a big deal for me. I just returned from a wonderful place that serves an excellent brew and so I'd like to take a moment to give a big shout out to Tim Hortons. I'm a huge fan of their coffee, more than Starbucks (gasp!) or Bigby's (excellent specialty drinks, though I've yet to sample their fresh brew) or the gas station down the street. I realize there are many out there who might disagree, but despite this I would like to thank Canada. Though I have never been to your great land (ridiculous since I live in Michigan) I have drank your coffee and it is delicious. Thank you for sharing with your neighbors!
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