So, thinking, praying, wondering...where do I go for safety, for comfort and assurance when I am so far from any place that feels like home? I don’t have a person or people who are necessarily home for me, and people come and go, I can’t count on that. There is no place that I can count on to feel like home for very long either. I don’t stay anywhere long enough to really call it home. So when the Lord requires me to give up the earthly concept of home, what do I do with home sickness, with the fear and insecurity of being adrift on the unstable sea of time and space? I asked myself, “What do I hold on to when all the constants in my life are washed out from under my feet? Where do I go for comfort and safety when I don’t have a home?” And so I went to the one place that I know I can find sure answers to those hard soul questions:
“Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.” Ps 90:1
“I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Ps 23:6
“The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms” Deut 33:27
God is my home, my safe place, my never-changing constant. Those are more than just words on a page, they are the living words of God, His promises written down for the generations of believers who have asked the question, “Where do I go for comfort and safety when I don’t have anything else?” Isn’t that exactly what Jesus did? Wasn’t Jesus a homeless wanderer, a vagabond, dependant on the generosity of his followers and his disciples and their families for his daily bread? Yet, because he knew where his home really was, he was able to live his life sold out to the work of the Father. The Bible is full of assurances that God is, in fact, the only home that is not subject to the ravages of time and circumstance.
2 Samuel 22: 1-3
David sang to the LORD the words of this song when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies and from the hand of Saul. 2 He said:
"The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
3 my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation.
He is my stronghold, my refuge and my savior—
from violent men you save me.
Psalm 5:11-12
11 But let all who take refuge in you be glad;
let them ever sing for joy.
Spread your protection over them,
that those who love your name may rejoice in you.
12 For surely, O LORD, you bless the righteous;
you surround them with your favor as with a shield.
Psalm 9:9-10
9 The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed,
a stronghold in times of trouble.
10 Those who know your name will trust in you,
for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.
Psalm 46:1-3
1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.
Selah
Psalm 59:16-17
16 But I will sing of your strength,
in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress,
my refuge in times of trouble.
17 O my Strength, I sing praise to you;
you, O God, are my fortress, my loving God.
Psalm 4:7-8
7 You have filled my heart with greater joy
than when their grain and new wine abound.
8 I will lie down and sleep in peace,
for you alone, O LORD,
make me dwell in safety.
Psalm 32:6-8
6 Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you
while you may be found;
surely when the mighty waters rise,
they will not reach him.
7 You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.
Selah
8 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you and watch over you.
Psalm 27:4-5
4 One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.
5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas!
Well folks, Christmas is upon us once again. I don’t know about you, but I am having trouble getting into the “Christmas Spirit”.
I have been reading a book about the history of the church for the last few months. It is amazing how much the traditions for celebrating Christmas has changed. I often assume that people in the past had an easier time getting that elusive Christmas Spirit. After reading about the history of the church, I’m no longer convinced they did. They were human too after all. The reason we have celebrations, any at all, is to acknowledge something important that has happened or to remind ourselves of an event we don’t want to forget. We all get tired of having to be reminded what Christmas is really about, but honestly, that is the whole point of Christmas, is to remind us, to help us remember, what LIFE is all about. With out birth, there would be no life, without life, there would be no death, and without His death, there would be no new birth and new life for us. So don’t get annoyed with all the people harping on about the “real meaning of Christmas”. That is, after all, why we celebrate in the first place, to remind us. I pray the Lord will bless you and keep you this joyous season of remembering!
Well folks, Christmas is upon us once again. I don’t know about you, but I am having trouble getting into the “Christmas Spirit”.
I have been reading a book about the history of the church for the last few months. It is amazing how much the traditions for celebrating Christmas has changed. I often assume that people in the past had an easier time getting that elusive Christmas Spirit. After reading about the history of the church, I’m no longer convinced they did. They were human too after all. The reason we have celebrations, any at all, is to acknowledge something important that has happened or to remind ourselves of an event we don’t want to forget. We all get tired of having to be reminded what Christmas is really about, but honestly, that is the whole point of Christmas, is to remind us, to help us remember, what LIFE is all about. With out birth, there would be no life, without life, there would be no death, and without His death, there would be no new birth and new life for us. So don’t get annoyed with all the people harping on about the “real meaning of Christmas”. That is, after all, why we celebrate in the first place, to remind us. I pray the Lord will bless you and keep you this joyous season of remembering!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
I came, I saw, I smashed it into the rug!
Fear...it is a powerful thing. Most of the time the fear of doing something is more painful than actually doing it. Living in fear of something isn't living at all. It keeps you up at night, it keeps you from taking any risks, it can even keep you from having relationships or from ever experiencing the joy of living life free from fear.
Fears come in all shapes and sizes. We like to laugh at other people's fears, but when it comes to our own fears, our sense of humor tends to run dry. Some people laugh at the girl so afraid of home invasion that she ritualistically checks doors and windows and closets and under the bed before going to sleep every night, but those same people may be terrified of doing their income taxes. Which causes me to ask, which is a more rational fear...really. You may find fear of mice or roaches to be paltry and irrational, but tremble at the thought of universal health care and the end of capitalism. Fear is personal and not often rational.
Why do we fear things anyway? I guess that some fears keep people from making really bad choices that might get themselves killed or worse. Fear, to a certain extent, is just a survival instinct, a tool we use to help us stay alive. But I am not really talking about that kind of fear. No, I am talking about the fear that binds us and makes us a slave to it, that smothers us and holds us back from our potential. God has been teaching me a lot lately about this kind of fear. I have had to identify some of the fears that are keeping me bound and asking God to free me from them. Some of you have asked God to free you from some of your fears and you know where this story is going, but for the rest of you, I must warn you that when you ask God to free you from your fear, you better be ready for him to do it.
Since I was a small girl, I have feared one thing with such consistency and stamina that I really ought to qualify for some sort of award. I fear cockroaches. Not the little roaches that are about a cm long and crawl out of your drain at night. I mean, they are gross, but they are hardly terrifying. No, I fear the big ones, the tree roaches that love to invade the old Victorian houses in Galveston. The ones that live in the walls and come out at night when the lights are turned out, that do not respect the boundaries of door, nor bed cover, nor drawer. They can smell fear and vulnerability, and they feed off it. They lie in wait in your bath towels, they breed in your tennis shoes, they invade your bedchamber in hoards with a snick, click, snick sound, that chills to the bone.
To be honest, I know they cannot hurt me, not really. They may be impossible to kill and look like incarnated devils, but really quite harmless when compared to say...earthquakes, house fires, rabid wolves or vampires. But as with any home invader, their real power lies in the fact that there is nothing you can do to guarantee that they will not enter your home, you are completely vulnerable and helpless. Now, like with home invaders, you can have weapons of mass destruction handy to blast them into oblivion, but you may be caught unawares and unprepared.
One of the things I have been worried about in heading to Africa is the fact that cockroaches are just as prevalent there if not more so, than in Galveston where I grew up. How am I supposed to deal with that? Especially if I am living alone? So, even though I was pretty sure I wouldn't like his methods, I told God that I needed his help to conquer this fear. Maybe that was when he decided to send me to Galveston for three months. The first encounter came one night after my sisters had gone to bed. Natalie came tearing into the living room weeping hysterically and blathering unintelligibly. It was a roach near her bed in her room. Christopher could not be roused, so I decided I must deal with it. I steeled myself and rushed to her aid, only to find that Audra had already dealt a stunning blow the the offending insect. I tried to scoop it up with an envelope to dispose of it, and it seemed to revive a little, so I grabbed a shoe and clobbered it beyond revival. My hand was shaking with adrenaline as I sent it to it's watery grave.
The next training exercise came when my friend and I were at her apartment late at night. I went into the kitchen and flipped the switch. Two giant creepers were feasting on crumbs on the floor. We tried to poison them with Lysol spray, but one got away in the pantry, and the other escaped into the bedroom. Well, the bedroom invader was the size of a school eraser and I had no intention of sharing my sleeping quarters with it. We chased if from behind the dresser with a broom and worked together to trap and destroy it using a two pronged attack with dustpan and broom.
Then tonight, I came home to my friend's apartment, alone. I started to climb the stairs and there on the wall was another super-sized-creature-from-the-pit-of-hell! This time, I was all alone. I looked downstairs, praying that God would provide a weapon of ample reach and clout. Thank heaven...there was a mop. I grabbed the implement and headed up the stairs. I swung, and missed, but the creature underestimated my reaction time and didn't move quick enough to evade my next blow. This one struck it dead on and it fell to the stairs. I beat it into the carpet, but knew that it wasn't broken and might still revive. I dashed upstairs to get the broom and dustpan, only to find that our associate from the previous night, the pantry lurker, was carousing on my Weapon of Mass Destruction! I screamed a mighty war cry and slammed the door a couple times until he abandoned my WMD for safer regions further back in the pantry. I disposed of the first kill and went to address the lurker, only to find that once again it evaded my efforts to destroy it. I suppose I still have some residual fear issues I need to work out with that one later.
All in all, I am pretty darn proud of my accomplishments, as indicated by this rather lengthy epitaph in their honor. I suppose one of the hardest and most important steps to getting over any fear is deciding that you are going to have to face it in order to conquer it. This is even harder to do than actually facing it, for some reason. Fear is really only as strong as the fear itself, and adrenaline can be a very useful supplement to bravery.
Fears come in all shapes and sizes. We like to laugh at other people's fears, but when it comes to our own fears, our sense of humor tends to run dry. Some people laugh at the girl so afraid of home invasion that she ritualistically checks doors and windows and closets and under the bed before going to sleep every night, but those same people may be terrified of doing their income taxes. Which causes me to ask, which is a more rational fear...really. You may find fear of mice or roaches to be paltry and irrational, but tremble at the thought of universal health care and the end of capitalism. Fear is personal and not often rational.
Why do we fear things anyway? I guess that some fears keep people from making really bad choices that might get themselves killed or worse. Fear, to a certain extent, is just a survival instinct, a tool we use to help us stay alive. But I am not really talking about that kind of fear. No, I am talking about the fear that binds us and makes us a slave to it, that smothers us and holds us back from our potential. God has been teaching me a lot lately about this kind of fear. I have had to identify some of the fears that are keeping me bound and asking God to free me from them. Some of you have asked God to free you from some of your fears and you know where this story is going, but for the rest of you, I must warn you that when you ask God to free you from your fear, you better be ready for him to do it.
Since I was a small girl, I have feared one thing with such consistency and stamina that I really ought to qualify for some sort of award. I fear cockroaches. Not the little roaches that are about a cm long and crawl out of your drain at night. I mean, they are gross, but they are hardly terrifying. No, I fear the big ones, the tree roaches that love to invade the old Victorian houses in Galveston. The ones that live in the walls and come out at night when the lights are turned out, that do not respect the boundaries of door, nor bed cover, nor drawer. They can smell fear and vulnerability, and they feed off it. They lie in wait in your bath towels, they breed in your tennis shoes, they invade your bedchamber in hoards with a snick, click, snick sound, that chills to the bone.
To be honest, I know they cannot hurt me, not really. They may be impossible to kill and look like incarnated devils, but really quite harmless when compared to say...earthquakes, house fires, rabid wolves or vampires. But as with any home invader, their real power lies in the fact that there is nothing you can do to guarantee that they will not enter your home, you are completely vulnerable and helpless. Now, like with home invaders, you can have weapons of mass destruction handy to blast them into oblivion, but you may be caught unawares and unprepared.
One of the things I have been worried about in heading to Africa is the fact that cockroaches are just as prevalent there if not more so, than in Galveston where I grew up. How am I supposed to deal with that? Especially if I am living alone? So, even though I was pretty sure I wouldn't like his methods, I told God that I needed his help to conquer this fear. Maybe that was when he decided to send me to Galveston for three months. The first encounter came one night after my sisters had gone to bed. Natalie came tearing into the living room weeping hysterically and blathering unintelligibly. It was a roach near her bed in her room. Christopher could not be roused, so I decided I must deal with it. I steeled myself and rushed to her aid, only to find that Audra had already dealt a stunning blow the the offending insect. I tried to scoop it up with an envelope to dispose of it, and it seemed to revive a little, so I grabbed a shoe and clobbered it beyond revival. My hand was shaking with adrenaline as I sent it to it's watery grave.
The next training exercise came when my friend and I were at her apartment late at night. I went into the kitchen and flipped the switch. Two giant creepers were feasting on crumbs on the floor. We tried to poison them with Lysol spray, but one got away in the pantry, and the other escaped into the bedroom. Well, the bedroom invader was the size of a school eraser and I had no intention of sharing my sleeping quarters with it. We chased if from behind the dresser with a broom and worked together to trap and destroy it using a two pronged attack with dustpan and broom.
Then tonight, I came home to my friend's apartment, alone. I started to climb the stairs and there on the wall was another super-sized-creature-from-the-pit-of-hell! This time, I was all alone. I looked downstairs, praying that God would provide a weapon of ample reach and clout. Thank heaven...there was a mop. I grabbed the implement and headed up the stairs. I swung, and missed, but the creature underestimated my reaction time and didn't move quick enough to evade my next blow. This one struck it dead on and it fell to the stairs. I beat it into the carpet, but knew that it wasn't broken and might still revive. I dashed upstairs to get the broom and dustpan, only to find that our associate from the previous night, the pantry lurker, was carousing on my Weapon of Mass Destruction! I screamed a mighty war cry and slammed the door a couple times until he abandoned my WMD for safer regions further back in the pantry. I disposed of the first kill and went to address the lurker, only to find that once again it evaded my efforts to destroy it. I suppose I still have some residual fear issues I need to work out with that one later.
All in all, I am pretty darn proud of my accomplishments, as indicated by this rather lengthy epitaph in their honor. I suppose one of the hardest and most important steps to getting over any fear is deciding that you are going to have to face it in order to conquer it. This is even harder to do than actually facing it, for some reason. Fear is really only as strong as the fear itself, and adrenaline can be a very useful supplement to bravery.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Bits of Glass
There are a lot of lessons to be learned from the sea. It can be unstable, powerful, destructive, constant, untamed and also likened in scripture to the voice of God. Maybe the awe we feel for the unfettered might of the ocean is a taste of the awe we should feel for the might of God.
There isn’t anything particularly wonderful about the
Sea glass, if you are going to get technical, only becomes sea glass (as opposed to the regular broken- bottle variety of glass) when it has been chunked about enough in the water and sand that all the sharp edges are gone, the smooth shiny surfaces are buffed up and look “frosted”, or if something else strange and destructive has happened to it, like melting. I thought how cool it would be to find a piece of perfect bottle green sea glass, just sitting there waiting for me to discover. The first piece I found however was beer-bottle brown. The wonderful thing about sea glass, though, is that it really doesn’t matter what the glass was in its former life, no matter how mundane or unsavory, when it is remade by the waves and sand, it is unique and beautiful. Shells loose some of there beauty when they are broken and damaged, glass just gets prettier. So I picked up that small brown sliver and rolled it about in my hand as I continued to search for another piece.
The first piece of green glass caught my eye as the sun glinted off of it. It wasn’t technically sea glass yet. The edges were chipped and the surface was scratched, and though it was beautiful, it really wasn’t finished yet. I held on to it for a little while though. It reminded me of myself, a little broken and battered, but not yet fully remade.
I found several more pieces, a few more browns of various shades and sizes, a couple of greens (that were real sea glass) and two white pieces. I had told God as I looked how much I would like to find a green, and I found a green, then I told him how much I would like to find some white glass, and then I found some white glass, so then I told him how much I would like to find some blue glass, but I never found any, at least not that day. I’m not done looking, though, and I’m not done asking. I have a feeling there is a piece of blue glass out there, waiting for me to find it. Maybe it’s just not ready yet.
You can learn a lot from the sea, if you take the time to listen.
Monday, August 17, 2009
I am back in Nacogdoches for the first time since December graduation. It feels very strange to be here without all of the friends that used to make this place home. Not that I don't have any friends here, just not most of the dear ones I went to school with.
I meet with the missions committee and then spoke at my supporting church here on Sunday and that was very encouraging. I was a little disappointed that not more people wanted to get together this week, but I realized that I keep developing these great expectations about how people aught to receive me and respond. I think my ego really wants just once for a speaking engagement to result in like five new supporters or something. I know, that's rediculous, that isn't how it has ever happened for me, but I keep expecting it all the same. It is so hard some times to place all my expectations on God and to leave the door open for him to provide how ever he sees fit. Partnership Development so rarely happens the way I think it should.
I am at 70% of the monthly support I need for the year in France, and that is not counting most of the one time/special gifts I have received. All said and done, I have much to be greatful for in regard to the Lord's provision.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Push
Over the last few months I have really been getting back into drawing a lot. I feel like all those questions I have had for so many years about who I am and what I was made to do are not nearly so pressing or significant now. I don't think about all that as much. I feel comfortable in my own skin for the first time in a decade or so. Maybe being that is a signal that I am really doing what I was made for, that I have figured out how to live my life "right". Not that there is one right way and I have stumbled across the secret and the rest of you are on your own... no, I think it is an individual process and that there may come a season of discontent and frustration again in the future. What I guess I know now is that God uses those times to PUSH is forward in the direction he wants us to go. He wants it to be voluntary, he wants us to choose to follow, but he is not above a nice firm shove or a serious case of the discontents. The thing is, I love drawing, but that wasn't what I was made for, was it? I was made for the glory of God, and as long as I can glorify him in art, then I guess that is what I will do... until the next time I feel him push me in another direction.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Bad timing
This summer, i am taking a Primary Health Care class with PBT to prepare for health care issues on the field. I am the youngest and only unmarried woman in the class. One day, we split up guys and girls to talk about examining ourselves for cancer in our sensitive areas. The teachers had these little silicone replicas of breasts and testicles that had lumps in them so you could practice the exam. We started off talking about self-exams, but all things being equal, about half way through, we swapped parts and talked about the other gender's exam techniques (I guess so we are well informed). The guys were taking a really long time with their little fake booby and so all the wives were making jokes about it. It was lunch and I had left my shoes in the room where the guys were at, so finally Laura Brollier peeked in and told me I should go ahead because they were almost done. i went in and tried to ignore the fact that five grown men were poking around on a little fake boob. I grabbed my stuff and was almost out safely when Sue Alice, the teacher (an older nurse) instructs the men, "So you can be really helpful to your wives, men. While you are making love..." I didn't wait around to hear any more but bolted for the door. I would have been fine if the door hadn't been partially blocked by a couple of tables. I slammed my hip into one, hooked my foot on another and then slammed into the partition as I hurtled into the other room. Laura had heard all that had transpired and was doubled over in laughter, "Bad timing!" I'll say. I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself!
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