A Journey Overseas

Week Three:

Meeting the People in my Inbox

I realized that I couldn't sum up a three week trip overseas in one blog post, so I hope you enjoy this three part series!

It seemed like everywhere we went, teens and kids wanted their picture taken with us.  White people are celebrities in Indonesia, apparently.  Here's my friend Cedric (from Switzerland but lives in Indonesia) with a group of teen girls which turned into a group of about 25 teens.

When I open my work e-mail each day, I often find stories from the people working in the field with poor villages.  Most days there is a specific story of a specific person or family’s changed life because of the work of GHNI.  I know that these people are real and that their lives and stories matter.  I even experience along with them the pain, compassion, joy, and gratitude of their situation to some degree.  However, seeing these people’s faces in a digital photograph attached in an e-mail and seeing their smile resulting from my interaction with them are two vastly different things.  Reading about the conditions in which these children live daily and smelling the sewers running alongside their streets bring a whole new perspective to the stories I post on our website.

Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, I was sick with a stomach bug the whole last week of my journey.  I think it was some fresh lettuce I stupidly ate the weekend before even though I know that the water wasn’t safe and fresh produce is likely washed in that water.  I was sick.  I was hot.  I was missing my husband; my home.  Yet, with all of these discomforts, it didn’t matter because the people I was around that week lived with more discomforts than you or I could ever imagine on a daily basis.  I was a broken mess in the morning as our team met but when we arrived in the village after lunch, none of those thoughts entered my mind.

Camba Berua is the name of the slum village where I spent most of my time.  The other village, Tanah Keke, was on an island involving a two hour boat-ride and overnight visit with minimal toilet access, so I was unable to go because of my stomach issues.  I was pretty mad to be in that situation, after all, I had come all the way around the world for this!  However, I came to terms with the situation and used the time I had with the other village wisely and it was definitely worth it.

Me with the sewing ladies of Camba Berua

We were able to visit some women in Camba Berua who had been loaned sewing machines and given sewing lessons.  They then made aprons to sell to be able to pay off their sewing machines and generate business which would provide additional income to their husband’s meager salaries.  Meeting these women was a huge joy because I heard the stories of how hard they worked to get to where they are today.  I especially was excited because of my personal joy in sewing.  I’ve often thought of selling some of my creations (quilts and purses) to provide a little more income for my husband and I but have often doubted whether anyone would buy my work.  I told these women, through a translator, that their success had inspired me.  I was told later by the people that work with these women that my encouragement was a huge blessing to them; showing them that they aren’t the only ones that struggle and that their efforts can encourage others.

Though this visit with these amazing women was a joy, it was really the children in the village that stole my heart.  From the moment we arrived, they began following us around.  The longer we were there, the more children gathered at our feet.  Language didn’t matter.  These little people absorbed every move we made and every word we spoke.  They often told us every English word they knew.  The more they saw how interested I was in interacting with them, the more they wanted to engage. 

Children waiting outside of the home we were visiting along with my teammate, Jim, on our first visit to Camba Berua.

By the end of that week, the rest of my team started affectionately calling me the “Pied Piper” (Honestly, I had to look up what that meant.  If you are like me, you might be interested in this link “Pied Piper”).  I realized that they saw the joy and gift I have working with children and didn’t even know that what I have is something special.  Yes, I was overwhelmed by the poverty and subsequent dreadful conditions that these children lived in but I also found joy in being able to give them the gift of games and song.  I was asked to help lead the children’s program on the last day we met in the village and never enjoyed doing the “Hokey Pokey” over and over again so much in my life!

I started teaching these kids "Itsy Bitsy Spider" on the first day and as soon as they saw me the next day, all they could say was "isty bitsy!  itsy bitsy!" and held their fingers up like a spider climbing the water spout.

"Put your head in and shake it all about!"

While I know that my presence was a gift to the women and children of that village, I think God also used them to speak to me.  I have never had so many people take note at how my being around children brings me to life.  After two weeks of sitting in meetings (something I really could do without), I imagine putting me around a bunch of children really changed my team’s perspective on me and allowed them to get to know a truer side of me.  I glowed at the many comments that I’d be a great mom someday, which is honestly something I’m really looking forward to, but also something I’ve doubted whether I’d actually do well.  It was an experience that really rounded out a trip that I didn’t even want to go on, making it a trip that I’m grateful I made.

The view from the airplane arriving in Orlando, Florida.  It was a sweet welcome home!

A Journey Overseas

Week Two:

Open Mind, Open Heart

I realized that I couldn't sum up a three week trip overseas in one blog post, so I hope you enjoy this three part series!

Traditional musicians at the opening night ceremony for the summit conference.

To set the scene, Andrew and I communicated but very minimally because of busy schedules and the time difference.  He had been very sick before I left with some sort of bug and wrote to me saying he’d had a relapse.  Having taken care of him in that state for a whole week, it was really hard to know that I couldn’t be there to help.  

On top of that, the conference my group was attending was harder for me to connect with practically speaking.  It was a larger summit conference with other organizations working to network and collaborate on finding solutions to some of the world’s humanitarian problems.  Since I’m more on the administrative side of my organization, working on a periphery level and not necessarily part of the inner-workings of our mission, I was there as an observer.  Already weary from sitting in meetings, feeling a bit out of place at this conference and my husband being home sick, things started to feel like that dream where you are running and not getting anywhere.

I’m sure that God always has a purpose for everybody in everything that they do; especially when they are obedient to Him.  Obedience for me was being on this trip.  So, even though I didn’t feel connected to my organizations purpose at this conference, God used the time to work on my heart.  

Something that Andrew and I have talked about since we met was our desire to adopt children someday.  We’ve been able to engage in some conversations with people through our church about different options and our ideas about adoption haven’t always met in the same place.  I always thought of bringing home a brown baby from a run-down orphanage somewhere in another country.  Andrew’s mind had become open to possibly adopting an older child out of the U.S. Foster care system; this scared me to death!  

It just so happened that one of the topics discussed at this conference was the problem of orphans around the world.  I would have loved to be a part of those seminar meetings as the presentations from up front broke me.  Because of my job, I instead attended meetings about poverty.  However, from the main program presentations and talking to those with “Orphans” on their name tags, God began to work in my heart and open my mind about the reality of adoption and what His plan might be for Andrew and I.  I was able to set aside some fears and sacrifice my need for control.  

In a conversation with one woman from the orphan group, I realized that the American mentality toward adoption is a lot like shopping for a car; they want to choose the make, model, year, color, and even characteristics of their child.  I know that this isn’t how God created children.  When a child is conceived within a woman, no one has that choice apart from the man-made science of genetic engineering (I disagree with this type of science but will not get into it now).  I realized that if I were pregnant, I wouldn’t even care if the child was born with some sort of awful birth defect or disability.  I would love that child like crazy because he or she was mine; a gift from God.  So, why shouldn’t I let God decide what orphan child needs my husband and I as his or her parents?

I’m fairly certain that is not why my boss brought me to that particular conference but after it was over, I was there.

After sitting in meetings for two weeks, I had the opportunity to visit my step-cousin, who lives in Ubud, Bali.  This is me with his daughter, Melati.

Fight or Flight...or Surrender?

The Dessert Song by Hillsong 

Verse 1:This is my prayer in the desertAnd all that's within me feels dryThis is my prayer in the hunger in meMy God is a God who provides 

Verse 2:And this is my prayer in the fireIn weakness or trial or painThere is a faith provedOf more worth than goldSo refine me Lord through the flames 

Chorus:And I will bring praiseI will bring praiseNo weapon forged against me shall remain
I will rejoiceI will declareGod is my victory and He is here 

Verse 3:And this is my prayer in the battleAnd triumph is still on it's wayI am a conqueror and co-heir with ChristSo firm on His promise I'll stand 

Bridge:All of my lifeIn every seasonYou are still GodI have a reason to singI have a reason to worship 

Verse 4:This is my prayer in the harvestWhen favor and providence flowI know I'm filled to be empited againThe seed I've recieved I will sow 

As we sang this in church yesterday I got that little sob in my throat that prevented me from singing half the song as it completely describes my life over the past couple months.  "Desert" was how I had been describing my spiritual journey.  There may have been small glasses of water scattered throughout but a little glass only goes so far when one is parched dry.  Then something happened; I started to see in the far distance shades of green.  As I got closer, I saw that there was a waterfall and a large pool of cool, crystal-clear water.  The air cleared of dust and became cool as the sun warmed my face.  The lyrics in the above song reference some of the scripture that led me to that lush place of nourishment.

It all began much like how Eve's life began in our home.  Eve, or Evy, is a cat whom my husband and I rescued from the street.  When she came to us, she was very sick.  She had a really bad respiratory infection, was infested with fleas that sucked her blood into an anemic state, and was half her ideal weight.

We had to give Evy two different kinds of medicine: one for the infection and the other a vitamin complex for her anemia, which would help her to gain weight.  Frightened, giving Evy medicine was a challenge.  She would get so worked up as we tried to hold her down and squirt the liquid into her mouth that her breathing became shallow and labored.  She would flail her paws and scratch up our arms and try to flee.  Evy didn't understand that we were on her side; trying to help her heal from her afflictions.  In her effort to get away from us, she was causing herself harm.

Eve when we took her in--very affectionate but scraggly fur

Eve after about a week--fur already shinier and softer

One day as I was trying to give Eve her medicine on my own, I identified with her struggle.  She didn't like the medicine.  She didn't like being held down in order to receive it.  Trying to escape from what seemed like something bad but was actually something very good put her in a worse state than she already was in.  How ridiculous that God used a starving sickly cat to show me myself.

Eve about 3 weeks into living with us
VS

Eve the day after we took her in

At that time, I was trying really hard to do my Christian duty by spending time in the word, serving God's children, and going to church.  It all seemed like a chore.  I didn't want to do those things anymore.  I thought back to other times of struggle in my life where I clung to those things because they were so rich in life; they were my sustenance, my glasses of water in the desert.  This time, I seemed to be coming up empty.  My journal reads over and over, "Speak to me, Lord!  Give me direction!"  I'm glad I didn't give up because one day He did.

I made myself go to church even though Andrew had gone to an earlier service while I was working at a job I hate.  The day was already long and I don't like going to church on my own.  I had been wrestling with God about what to do with my time regarding service to Him through church.  I love serving the middle school kids on Tuesday nights at Surge.  I was just concluding a time of service for another ministry at our church called reGROUP (a ministry which helps adults find spiritual and emotional healing from their hurts, habits, and hang-ups), sensing that God was asking me to step down and refocus my time.  The question was whether I just focused on my 8th grade girls at Surge or trade my time at reGROUP to help launch a new ministry for the students similar to reGROUP.

As soon as I sat down, a saw a couple sliding past people in my row and sat next to me.  It was Jack, the director of reGROUP.  I thought it was ironic.  The service proceeded and I sensed God's presence strongly upon me.  The sermon was on Galatians 6:7-10.  The passage that stuck out to me was verse 9:

"And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."

My notes from the sermon read:

"We won't see the results of our efforts when we want to...

**Are my trials--the things which are testing my patience--preparing me for a future challenge?**"

This was the catalyst for a changed perspective that allowed me to see the green on the horizon at the edge of my desert.  From there on, I broke away from a Bible study I was working through which felt like a mundane chore and began just allowing the word to speak to me.  In other words, I stopped making God hold me down so that He could inject His word into my mouth like a necessary treatment for life and began allowing His word to just wash into me like a flowing stream of nourishment.

I had just begun a new gym membership and decided that instead of plugging my earphones into the TV audio box on the elliptical trainer, I would listen to the New Testament on my i-pod.  The first day, God illuminated Matthew 10, where he tells how Jesus sent out his disciples without anything but the clothes on their backs and their walking sticks and tells them to trust the Father to provide; that if they are in a place where the message of Christ is received, then He will provide for all of their needs.  That seemed significant to my journey.  If I'm constantly fighting against how I'm spending my time, then maybe I'm not where I'm supposed to be.  Maybe I just need to surrender my time to the Lord and watch Him provide?

A couple days later I'm sitting in a lobby during an errand I was running.  There's people all around and I'm waiting for a guy to come out and tell me how much he thinks my car is worth so that I can sell it.  I'm thumbing through the gospels with the truth from Matthew 10 weighing on my heart and thinking how passionate I am about discipleship to teenagers.  My eye caught the tail-end of Matthew 9:

"And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.  Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few;  therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.'" (emphasis mine)

I did everything I could not to break down and cry.  When I see the words "he had compassion for them" and "harassed and helpless" I think of teenagers, particularly middle school kids.  For over a week, any time I shared with someone what God placed on my heart regarding my desire to see teenagers come to know and grow in Christ, I would just sob with the compassion that overwhelmed me.  I know that there are many "groups" of people that could be described as "harassed and helpless"--the elderly, the homeless, people living in impoverished countries around the world, prostitutes, orphans, etc...--but the people I see when I read this passage are teenagers.  I wrote in my journal that day,

"This is a passage which has had meaning in my life before but I have never felt so emotional about it.  I think that more recently I have seen more deeply into people's hearts; from the very young to the very old.  I have seen how 'harassed and helpless' people can be.  None of these is more so that teenagers.  I feel so strongly drawn back into the kind of work I left in my own time of helplessness when I first moved to Florida...I feel drawn to an outreach and discipleship minded ministry...Lord, my desires, dreams, and visions just keep increasing until I think I might burst!  I'm at a point of surrender, only I know not which direction to fall.  I guess I must simply fall and trust that You will catch me."

Since then, I've been deeply investigating these passages in Matthew 9 and 10 with fervor.  I'm seeking counsel and prayer from those around me whom I trust and who trust Christ with their lives.  I'm looking back at Galatians 6:9 and seeing how God has already used my past trials to prepare me for a this current challenge which allows me to trust more deeply that I simply need to "not grow weary in doing good." I must trust that the seeds I am sowing through my current obedience to Christ will produce everlasting fruit in the future.   From the desert to the harvest, God is Lord of all and I am His daughter, "so firm on his promise I'll stand."

Gratitude

Lately I've been walking through a spiritual dessert.  My life has been so haphazard for many reasons and it's thrown me a bit off kilter.  I'm yet again looking for the horizon.  However, amidst my frustrations, God has shown me very clearly that He's with me and that He knows all about my needs.  If I could only use one word to describe the last few weeks, it would be, "Grateful."

Andrew and I recently moved.  It was a bit of a crazy time.  The week before, we were planning for a weekend retreat with the middle school guys and girls we minister to through our church.  It's an awesome ministry and we are very invested.  However, we were going into the weekend knowing that we had 10 days to move out of our place as new tenants were moving in, and we had no idea where we'd be moving.  Well, of course, God provided.

Me (far left) with my co-leader, Jenny, and our 7th grade girls at camp

We looked at a place the Monday following the church retreat and it was so awful that I thought, "I will cry daily if I have to live here!"  Now, I knew that if God led us to move there, I would be obedient but I knew I would hate every minute of it.  It was the size of a shoe box, stepping into the house we were in the middle of the living room, three steps to the right and we were in the kitchen the size of a tissue box, two steps back and we were in the bathroom the size of a tin can, and three steps to the left and we were in the bedroom which might have fit our double bed which we'd have to jump onto from the doorway.  There were two small windows in the whole house about face-level which had bars on them.  I think that God showed us that place so that I would be more open and excited for the place we looked at on Tuesday.

I'd always been leery of living in a mobile home.  Where I'm from, it was not so kindly called, "trailer trash."  Basically, a person either lived in a trailer or on the street.  Andrew, however, had lived in one and said it was not that bad...and he would never bring me to a place that was "that bad."  So, we looked at the home on Tuesday where we filled out the application.  It wasn't "that bad."  Actually, it seemed spacious with lots of windows We received a call on Wednesday saying we were approved to live there, and we signed the lease on Thursday.  Grateful.

With the stress of finding a place to live, we hadn't packed a single box.  We figured we would do what we could over the weekend and finish up moving and cleaning the old place early the next week.  So, we got to work right away.  By Friday, we had a small dent in the packing when my Mother-in-Law and siblings came over to help.  Then my Father-in-Law showed up with his truck and we amazingly got a whole load moved over to the house before Andrew got out of work!  Grateful.

The next day, we continued packing.  Andrew's family once again came over, along with our good friend, Wes.  With two trucks, a minivan, and my PT Cruiser, we were able to get everything to the new house in about two trips.  We realized early in the day that this process was going a lot faster than we had planned.  Without electricity and water, we realized we needed to get to the utility office before they closed at 1pm.

The Wretched Wrench

So, immediately following the first load, we planned on heading over the the utility office while the rest of the crew unloaded.  However, on the way to the house we heard a little noise and the check tire light came on...then pulling into the neighborhood, we heard the ever familiar, "thump, thump, thump."  Pulling up to the house, we saw the look on Andrew's dad's face we knew it was worse than we thought.  The left rear tire was completely imbedded with a small wrench.  Great.

We took the minivan to the utility office.  Electricity, check.  Water...not for three days!  We got home to the spare tire being put onto the car.  Grateful.

Somewhere amidst getting the second load packed up, Andrew's dad had our tire replaced.  Grateful.

The condo we were living in was privately owned by a man and his wife who were believers and fantastic landlords.  It was partially furnished and included a lot of amenities.  In communicating to them our plans to move, they offered for us to keep the couch (which our cat had adopted as her scratching post) and the coffee table.  Our roommate had also given us one of her two T.V.'s and a TV stand that she wasn't going to be able to use in her new place.  Grateful.

Another thing we didn't have for the new place was a dining room table.  I told Andrew's mom that I thought we would go to goodwill and see if we could find a small card table.  After all, it's just the two of us.  A few hours after we were left to our own devices, we had run out to get some subway for dinner.  Moments after we returned the in-laws showed up with a gorgeous wooden table with two chairs!  Grateful.

Table for Two

Now, here we are in our new house and I'm working really hard to get unpacked.  I'm of that mindset where if my surroundings are in disarray, I have a hard time relaxing.  I need a place of tranquility in order to be at peace in my mind.  In speaking with a lot of other women, I'm not alone.  Andrew, on the other hand, can decide he needs a day of rest where he can just lie on the couch, read, watch movies, and relax and he'll do it even if there's a load of clean laundry on the couch that has yet to be folded and dishes in the sink.  We are complete opposites in that area.  The chaos of our house drives me nuts and I'll work my heart out until it gets put away.  Andrew isn't going to worry about it, figuring it will get done eventually.

My friend, Jenny, is a professional organizer ("like" her facebook page, Creative Organizing Solutions!).  Understanding my disdain for the mess, offered to come over to help.  Just to be friendly.  We unpacked out entire house in less than 8 hours!  Grateful.

In all the bustle of trying to get settled in, I realize that we don't have a vacuum and the carpet badly needed it.  So, I asked Andrew's mom if we could borrow hers for a day, thinking I'd find a used one on craigslist soon.  So, when we met up so that I could get the vacuum, out came a box instead.  With a brand new vacuum in it.  I don't think I was ever more excited to vacuum in my life.  Grateful.

Just when we didn't think we could be even more blessed, Andrew went researching lawnmowers, another thing we never had because we've never had a yard until now.  He asked a friend of his if he knew of anything.  His friend informed him that he was sending a guy to cut our lawn.  For a month.  Grateful.

So, now I sit here in our "new" home.  My dessert seems a little less deserted, my heart feels a lot more calm, and I'm back to the normal every day maintenance of my home, my marriage, and my life.  Am I swimming in a sea of fullness and satisfaction?  Let's just say that I can see the sun rising over the sandy horizon.

And I'm grateful.

The Job Shuffle

I look around at people's lives around me and I really shouldn't because I see people settled down, buying houses, decorating, going to the same job day after day, month after month.  They are a variety of people who, combined, have the kind of life I want.  It's like the Proverbs 31 woman--all ideal characteristics of a woman, wife, and mother, but that's just it--she's idealistic.  She can't possibly be one woman.  She's a combination of attributes of Godly women.  Here I sit in an apartment that is not going to be mine in a couple of months with a job that, Lord willing, also will not be mine after long.  I seem to be experiencing constant dissatisfaction as I live a life centered on words like:

"For I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.  I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.  In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger; abundance and need.  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:11-13

Of that passage, I think in a lot of ways verse thirteen has become a Christian catch phrase.  It has even been demoted to being a cliche in a lot of instances, which I find quite sad because the words previous get overlooked.  In my experience Christ has too often become an elixir to promote power despite our humanness.  A quick fix.  Rather than seeing the hardship of being without or the willpower of being good stewards of our blessed abundance, so often all we see in that passage is, "I can do all things," and "Strengthens me."

I do this more than I care to admit.  Oh how holy and powerful am I that I have Jesus in my life do "good things."  I am neither holy nor powerful.  In the "good things" that I do, I am daily humbled.  Lately, the only reason I time to do good things is because I'm working a job that I hate where I get scheduled as few as thirteen hours each week.  I am supposed to earn my hours based on how well I do the job.  With several positive reviews sent in by clients as well as a company auditor praising my good work, I still only earned a whopping fourteen hours for this next week.

When I first heard that the hours scheduled were based on work effort, I thought they were talking about choice of shift.  I learned the hard way it was whether or not I even got a shift, much less a shift that lasted more than three hours.  So I thought, well, if I just work harder.  If I make my effort known.  If I just lean on Jesus to strengthen me, then surely I will be rewarded.  The harder I work, the better I get at my job, the more positive feedback my management gets from those I serve, the less hours I've been getting.  So, obviously, this single verse is not a formula for a quick fix during life's hard times or winning a sports game.  My attention has been shifted from, "I can do all things..." to "I know how to be brought low...in any and every circumstance...facing hunger...and need."

It is not my work, my effort, my ability which has been strengthened by Christ.  It is my fortress, my rock, my protection.  In my lowness, Christ has risen me up by putting around me a community of believers who see Christ's Spirit in me and run to protect and encourage me.  In circumstances where my finances are scarce and my resources have run dry, God has not only provided me with a husband who takes lead in carrying the burden but also circumstances which has freed us from need.  My strength has come through reason to have faith that God is good.  The things I do are an expression of my gratitude to my Savior, whom I want to share with the world.  They are a sacrifice of self rather than a promotion of ability.

Andrew, my husband, and I are in the final days of waiting to see if we are accepted into ministry positions through New Tribes Mission.  The jobs we would be doing through this organization are, for both of us, what we feel God is calling us to do for His Kingdom.  All we want to do is to serve Him but in the meantime, our current work situations are less than ideal.  After leaving a ministry position myself, this past August, I've become miserable in the secular work force.  Now on my second job, which I described a bit earlier, I am feeling desperate to get back into a Christian work environment.

Andrew has been struggling on the work-front since before we even began seeing one-another.  Going from bad mechanic job to bad mechanic job.  He's even tried to find other work--any work--to supplement his mechanics job so that he could take some of the pressure off of me before we got married.  It seems like here a job, there a job, or just-a-little-job job, God has provided us with just enough for what we've needed at whatever given moment.

Neither of us happy in our jobs, nor confident from week to week that what we are bringing in is going to be enough after our tithe to the church, we are both constantly on the lookout for something else while desperately guarding our savings account.  The blessing amidst this constant job shuffle is that we have the hope of our Lord Jesus Christ and the shoulder of one-another to lean on when we are exhausted from the shuffle and weary of waiting for God's plan for our life and ministry together to unfold.

The Art of Being Lazy

A couple of weeks ago I was in bed with some sort of unknown illness.  All I could do was lay there and feel helpless.  Though some may revel in the opportunity to just lay around and rest (my husband being of that kind), this is not the ideal situation for a doer as myself.  Andrew resorted to removing any distractions from the bedroom (anything that might tempt me out of bed to clean, sort, or organize) and strongly advising that I stay in bed except to get something to eat or drink.  The more effort I put forth, the  more I was set back from recovery, so I finally relented.  This did not fair well for my attitude, however.

The more I lay in bed and did nothing, feeling horrible, the more frustrated I became and the worse my attitude.  I became rather grouchy and, to be honest, kind of mean.  I found myself apologizing a lot.

Finally, as I began to feel better, I realized that though I spent a lot of time on Facebook, joining Pinterest and filling up bulletin boards, and sleeping, the one thing I didn't do was seek out my Creator, my Savior, my Healer, The Great Physician.  I wanted so badly to get well and yet Christ was not on my mind.  Once or twice I may have thought to go to Him but was easily distracted and the thought quickly vanished.

I went to the doctor and after a battery of questions, tests, and lab-work, the cause of my illness went undetected and I was given vague instructions.  The next day, feeling well enough to go to Church, I sat in the lobby afterward waiting for Andrew, who was serving for an event following the service, and came down on my knees in repentance.  I realized that my lack of Christ as my hope in my illness had some ugly repercussions--my attitude, my relationship with my husband, and my ability to get well.  Two days later, still improving, I wrote this in my journal:

"Lord, not two days ago did I fall at your feet and repent for not seeking You when I was ill and yet I am just now coming back to You!  I am so very tired as I'm still healing and yet have been keeping myself so busy.  I look back at my time in bed and am thinking of how many chores I need to do to make up for the lost time rather than reveling in the chance to just rest.

As a result of all of this, I sit here feeling spent and am reminded, yet again, of Mary and Martha.  Mary is forever on her knees before the feet of Christ (Luke 10:39; John 11:32, 12:3) whether she was strong in faith or not.  I feel more like that which describes Martha in Luke 10:41, "Anxious and troubled about many things (NLT)" even when forced to rest; forced to let go of my many anxieties and troubles; I fail to look at Jesus' feet and remember that there's a better way--a road that will carry me rather than one which is a burden for me to carry.

God, as I face needing to go back to wok and dive into all the tasks which need to be done, I cry out to You to form in my heart and mind the vision of rest.  Andrew has been telling me that there is a difference between what needs to be done right now, what should be done but can wait, and what I need to just completely look away from and forget about--to not worry myself over at all. Help me to distinguish these, Father!  Help me to learn the beauty of Jesus' feet."

My hope in sharing this with you is that you would also be encouraged to reflect on Jesus' feet as Mary did; that you would let go of the many things which cause anxiety and trouble in your heart, mind, and spirit and seek the feet of Him who has already taken on those burdens for you on the path to righteousness.  Being free of anxiety and trouble over many things allows me to take my eyes off being free of my own burdens that I might help lighten those of others around me.

Dandelions and Treasures

The other night I dreamed that I was showing some kids from church how to pull weeds.  A girl yanked on a dandelion and, as is usually the case, the flower and stem cam off but the roots stayed in the ground.  I showed them how the root needed to be dug out with a spade.  Sure enough a long root came up from the earth.  I looked down into the hole that was left behind a saw more dandelion--an unbloomed bud resting in the earth.  I dug more, and more dandelion root came loose.

Now, as I peered into my hole, which at this point was quite deep, there seemed to be the lip of some sort of pot.  I dug and pulled until the item became loosed from the earth.  Out came a vase of obvious age and quality.  It was intricately made of clay, glazed and fired with expertise.  The top had been cracked and broken but it was a clean break.  I didn't have to dig much further to find the missing piece.  It was truly a gem.

I looked once again into the hole and, lo!, a second vase, similar to the first, loosed from the ground which had so tightly held that dandelion root with ease.  The pair were truly a find.  I seemed all the turmoil of digging up the stubborn dandelion roots had reaped a joyous end.


Why I had this dream, I'm not sure, but it has most definitely brought me some peace and joy in my life.  It seems that God may be teaching me something about life's trials.  The Struggle has worth; a value that may not be realized in the process.  Taking the time, the perseverance, the effort to dig out the root of a problem which, on the surface seems relatively harmless--if not a bit attractive--could unearth surprising and unexpected blessings.  These blessings may seem largely unrelated to the trial but are, regardless, gifts from God.

Really funny, God. Are you serious?

It appears that God is always serious when it comes to calling His children to serve Him within their giftedness, however, I've been staring in disbelief as I've discovered what God has called me to this time around.  Actually, it isn't so different from the vision He's given me from the beginning.

God and I had a conversation a while back that sounded a lot like this:

God:  Bethany, you are going to serve me in full-time youth ministry.

Me: Uhhh...no, I'm not. (Goes about her business)

God:  Bethany, you are going to serve me in full-time youth ministry.

Me:  Um, yeah, no.  You are kidding!  I'm not going into full-time ministry.

God:  No, really, Bethany.  I'm serious.  I need you to serve me in full-time youth ministry.

Me: I am?

God: Yes.  You are.

Me: Oh.

God: (patiently waiting)

Me:  God, I think I need to serve you in full-time youth ministry.

God:  Yes.  You are.

Me:  I'm going to serve God in full-time youth ministry!!!

That conversation, had in January of 2005, launched me on a crazy journey.  I began talking to people and getting involved in youth events--mainly Student Venture conferences (Campus Crusade for Christ's high school outreach) where I fell in love with what God was doing in the lives of teenagers and later that year, began a 1 1/2 year internship.  In July of 2007 I joined staff full-time where I really connected deeply with high school girls.  I saw kids come to know Jesus in a very personal way and walked through some really difficult issues with them.  I saw a lot of hurt in America's sweet sixteens.

Then my own hurt attacked me from a sidewind.  In the beginning of 2009, my "best friend" from college, in an abusive co-dependent relationship, began to really get into deep depression and reliance on me and her boyfriend.  Me, having my own dependency issues, tried to be her savior.  I was, of course, in ministry, wasn't I?  I had all the answers, didn't I?  I could rescue her, couldn't I, just like I could rescue all of the girls I was working with, right?

Well, it just so happens that the situation didn't turn out that way.  I lost my friendship with this great friend while on vacation with her at Disney World.  It was messy, dirty, and distorted beyond repair.  I was devastated.  Was I rescuing her as a way to rescue myself?  Working with the high school girls became exhausting as I walked through this tragedy in my life and my health went into a downward spiral.

That summer I found myself in Fort Collins, Colorado, taking Bible classes with fellow Student Venture staff.  It had turned into a refuge of being surrounded by like-minded believers--a time for healing and discovering myself.  The pain was worse than any physical pain I had experienced and it only seemed to get worse as I dug deep to find out what weapon had penetrated me so deeply.  By the end of the summer I found myself on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication.  I would cry for hours thinking about going back to my high school girls as I could barely even take care of myself.

My emotional state was taken very seriously by the leaders of the ministry.  After much discussion, and much resistance from me, we decided that it would be best if I moved to Orlando, Florida, to work behind a computer at the national headquarters rather than face to face with the teenagers.  I reluctantly moved...

And then I joyfully stayed.  God opened up, not only the root of my pain that I might heal, but also a view into gifts He had given me which I had been ignoring.  I realized that, yes, I still have a passion for teenagers and women but also a passion and talent for writing, among many other things.

As I prayed about how I could combine my two passions, my financial support for my ministry began to struggle.  I worked fervently off and on for a year to build a team of financial support that would sustain the ministry God had given me.  When instead of growing, my team kept shrinking, I began to look into other options.  What God led me to do was not something I ever expected but seemed only right--leave the ministry.

As of August first, for the first time since January of 2006, I was not getting a paycheck from Student Venture.  I was living ministry partner free.  It's been an odd feeling...until now.

Enter the love of my life, Andrew Marinelli.  We are getting married on December 30th.  Both of us have been praying about God's leading for our life and work since we first became serious 5 1/2 months ago.  About 2 1/2 months ago, Andrew mentioned that there was a job he was interested in with a ministry called New Tribes Mission working as a mechanic.  He mentioned that he'd have to raise financial support.  I laughed inside.  "Uh-uh.  No way." I thought to myself.  Out loud it sounded more like, "well, it's something to look into but I don't know how I feel about the support raising thing. I'm so weary of that life right now."

As it time went on and job searches kept going forth, NTM kept coming up.  As it turned out, Andrew heard of a writing job for me in the same ministry.  "No way," I thought.  "I'm not raising support again."  I looked into it just to honor Andrew, figuring that I could say I looked and that I wasn't interested.  The only problem was that I really was interested!  I started to laugh at God and having the same conversation as before.  "No way.  You're kidding, God, I'm not rebuilding a financial ministry team again," to which God's reply was the same as before, "Yes, Bethany, you are."

Unlike any other time when I've seen something I liked (like the moment I first saw Andrew for who he is), I couldn't accept it right way.  It took a lot of prayer and research and questions asked before I could really commit.  God brought me through this journey, brought me out of ministry so that I could write, and then brought me right back into ministry...so that I can write.

My life over the last few years has been a lot of tears and pain, a lot of healing and rejoicing, and a lot of very uncomfortable changes.  All of this so that I could be right where God wanted me so that I could follow the dreams that I always thought I could never live out.

God may have a sense of humor but He also knows the plans for our lives.

Proverbs 3:5-8 

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,   and do not lean on your own understanding.In all your ways acknowledge him,   and he will make straight your paths.Be not wise in your own eyes;   fear the LORD, and turn away from evil.It will be healing to your flesh   and refreshment to your bones.

Jeremiah 29:11-14 

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you.  You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the LORD, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the LORD, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.

When God Shows His Face

Over the course of our relationship, Andrew has been seeking God's will for his job and praying for provision.  One of the things that drew me to Andrew is watching him follow Christ in this process.  As he saw the Lord leading him to an auto-mechanics job for New Tribes Mission, a ministry that seeks to build churches amongst unreached people groups around the world, at their headquarters in Sanford, FL, he began to wrestle with some deep theological questions.  The way God met him with peace came by unlikely means.

One thing that I've learned about Andrew is that I must be patient.  This is especially important as I prepare to be his wife I anticipate a constant waiting.  Andrew is very thorough in decisions that he makes for his life.  Once he had told me that he liked me, it took a week for him to find peace about beginning a relationship with me.  I felt overwhelmingly valued as he sought to honor my heart in his leadership under Christ.  The same was true as he prayed about asking me to be his wife.  When the day came for his marriage proposal, I knew it was because God had given Andrew the complete peace that our marriage would be a union under Christ.

It didn't surprise me that when Andrew was given the opportunity for a job working on cars as a full-time ministry, that he wouldn't take this decision lightly.  He reviewed the organization--the mission, values, and vision for ministry--that he would be a part of something he felt entirely honored to represent.  Being so thorough in his decision making, Andrew is a very deep thinker and, in my opinion, very intelligent.  Therefore, some deep theological issues came up in his time praying about ministry which he began to wrestle with deeply.  It was difficult for me to watch him walk through a time of being so significantly without peace.  Andrew would get so exhausted from studying God's Word and seeking him for answers that, even though he was off from work for several days, he was just as exhausted as if he'd been working on cars for 12 hours each day.  There came a point when he was wrestling so deeply that something had to give.

Andrew had sought out men whom he respected from the church to discuss his struggle.  This was helpful but I finally suggested to him that he contact the man with whom he'd been in contact with at NTM.  God also kept putting a friend of mine from my time with Student Venture (Cru) on my heart as we discussed the issues he was having.  I contacted my friend who gladly agreed to meet with Andrew.  That all set up, Andrew was beginning to feel a bit better about what he was wrestling with.

The day before he was to confer with these two men concerning his questions, he was working at the shop.  It was another slow day--no work means little income--and therefore, frustration.  Then the man who collects the used oil from the shop arrived.

He had seen the Bible sitting in Andrew's car and asked about it.  Acknowledging it as his own, the man proceeded to tell Andrew about how God had transformed his own life.  Standing in the shop, the oil collector and the auto mechanic, the man asked if Andrew would like for him to sing the 23rd Psalm to him.  Finding this an odd request--wouldn't you?--Andrew said, "Oh, that's ok."  The man insisted.

As he sang, Andrew told me that something began to change in him.  Yes, the man had a good voice--good tone quality and control.  He sang well but it was more than just the music.  It was the peculiarity of the situation--the oil collector and the auto mechanic standing in the shop, one singing the 23rd Psalm to the other--that illuminated God's presence in the midst of it all.  As I understand it, there was something about the song--the revelation of God's word in the most unpredictable of places--that allowed the Holy Spirit to wash over Andrew with peace of his omnipresence and faithfulness.

The Joy of Tweens

One of my greatest joys in life right now is volunteering at Summit Church with Surge, the middle school ministry.  I have been walking with a group of ten 12 year old girls for over a year, now.  They are currently in the seventh grade and an absolute joy in my life.

When the school year started this past August, I made it a goal to meet with a different girl each week during this first semester.  It is most definitely a challenge having a schedule where I work mostly nights and weekends and the girls being in school during the week.  God is faithful and allowing me to keep my commitment with Him.  

The time I spend with these girls has proven to be meaningful as I get to know what they are walking through on a day to day basis.  I am privileged to be able to pour into their lives, encouraging them toward Christ.  Teenagers have a lot more challenges in this day and age with internet, cell phones, and parents who both have to work.  I have seen a lot of kids whose parents don't know how to parent and it breaks my heart.  As you've noticed, I mentioned teenagers and yet these girls have only just turned twelve.  What they walk through day to day is a lot more than what I remember having to deal with at their age.

Last week I met with a girl whom I've gotten to know quite well over the past year.  She's always a joy to be around--imaginative and bright.  This young lady is the definition of a Tween--sometimes acts like a teenager and yet still has many child-like characteristics.  She dresses rather stylishly and carries a large pleather bag over her shoulder of which she usually produces some sort of toy.  She's the oldest of three and home-schooled.  I find her parents to be the exception to the rule of an age where parents don't know how to parent.  They are doing a great job with their daughter.  

In fact, when asked one thing she would want to ask God she began talking about her relationship with her siblings.  As she talked about it I listened and then came up with her own answer to her problems.  I added here and there, mostly just agreeing with her that she's becoming more of a teenager and her younger siblings are having to adjust to that, still being children.  Then she added on to that fact with something her dad had share with the three of them--a reference to Romans 12:14-21.  Not only did this girl talk herself through her own problem but shared a Biblical truth with me that I needed to hear that day.

I found that I was ignorantly amazed that a 12 year old girl had encouraged me at a time when I thought was meant to encourage her.  Of course she did.  Tweens still have the innocent faith of a child but are of an age where they are privy to the more intellectual depths of spiritual truths.  How fortunate they are!  

I was definitely reminded of why I love working with middle school students.

Be Careful What You Pray For...

Shortly after being kicked out of the house where I had been renting a room from a girl I met at church, my journal writes:

12 March, 2011

...I've really been longing for a husband lately.  I'm tired of trying to find a place I can call home.  I know there are challenges to being married, too, but I just don't feel right navigating life on my own.  Lord, satisfy my heart!

Through this difficult time, I had asked certain people to pray for me to find a place to live and a roommate...or a husband, I would say half jokingly.  Within a few weeks, here is what my journal said:

1 April, 2011

Dear Lord,
I've moved into my new condo...with this move my eyes have opened to a potential husband.  I wasn't even thinking about Andrew in that way but after getting to know him as he's helped me move, I'm seeing his godly qualities. 

Fast forward to today, well, if you read my last post, you will know how the story ends.  Actually, it has yet to end.  This is all really just the beginning.  It just occurred to me a couple nights ago as I was discussing that old roommate situation with Andrew and his brother and sister when Andrew said, "well, now you have a permanent roommate" that I had actually prayed for either a roommate or (haha) a husband.  What do you know?  I got the husband!

So, even if you are only praying half seriously, know that God still hears you and you might just get what you asked for!

I Am Fought For!

On September 7th, 2009, I arrived in Orlando, Florida feeling bruised, beaten, and weary from the war of life.  I had sunk into a deep depression and the words, "I'm alone.  No one will fight for me," ran constantly through my mind.  Upon expressing this thought aloud, a hearer would often say, "God will fight for you--He already has!"  In my mind I knew this was true.  I had gone through the Bible and read stories about God fighting for his people--David and Goliath, Moses and the Red Sea, The Tower of Babel, and God's promise of Jesus' return--but I hadn't experienced it in my life.  I came to Orlando, in large part, to search for the experience of being fought for.

I began to see glimpses of God's fight for me over the first 18 months of my life here.  I had been going through individual counseling and then later joined a group at my church focused on recovering from life's "hurts, habits, and hang-ups."  These were are both integral to my discovery of who God was as my rescuer.  I had dug deep into my life and saw the foundation of this false belief and began to correct my misperceived views of God.  Things were really looking up and life had become not just tolerable but enjoyable.  Then in March of this year my life's story changed through a dramatic climax.

I had been living with two girls I had met through church friends.  At first, the living arrangements seemed ideal as the girls had been becoming great friends.  They seemed to love God and serving Him.  Slowly, however, our relationships began to unravel.  My roommates had become distant.  Their smiles and niceties had become less and less genuine.  When I approached them about it they agreed that their was issues but refused to work through them with me.  I expressed that I would begin making plans to move out but I couldn't get anything together fast enough for them, so they eventually asked me to leave and gave me a short deadline.  This just reopened old wounds from my past that I was finally beginning to heal.

As devastating as the situation was, God began to work quickly.  I had sought Him for guidance through the whole situation and stepped out well beyond my comfort zone in my attempt to reconcile with these girls.  I believe that God awarded my efforts in taking me from that house to a new life.  He provided a great place to live and a friend with whom to share it.  That's only the beginning.  He also provided a friend to walk with me through the move  but also throughout life.

Andrew, upon hearing of my urgent situation, offered to help move out of the old house and store my things in his place until I could move into my new place.  Being in desperate need, I accepted his generosity.  Throughout the month that my things were being stored in his place, he continued to go above and beyond to help me through the emotional scars that were forming.  He not only cared about my physical well-being but emotional and spiritual as well.  The more I got to know him through this process, the more I wanted to know him and spend time with him.  It appeared that Andrew felt similarly about me as he began to pursue me.  Walking me to my car at every opportunity and then standing there with me as we talked for hours.  Going with me back to my old house to pick stuff up that I might have some moral support.  Then it became cooking me dinner late at night when I came to pick up things from his house which I needed (or maybe I didn't really need them but looked forward to another chance to see him).

We quickly fell in love, though unspoken, as we grew closer and made deeper commitments to one-another we began to show each other in the daily ways we spoke to each other and honored each other.  I had been learning to stand up for myself and he stood by me as I ventured into this unchartered world of respecting myself.  He began calling me out on the times I wanted to back down.  Andrew started to stand up for me in ways that I didn't know how.  He encouraged me to follow God even if it meant being away from me for a month as I traveled to Slovakia on a mission to reach Slovak high school students.  Then, finally, all the concealed feelings of pursuing a Godly relationship gave way.

Andrew and I had spoken many times about the possibilities of a future together.  I had a sense that he would soon ask for my hand but had no clue when or how.  A couple of Sundays ago, we commenced in our weekly routine of meeting up at church after I got out of work for the evening service.  We then attended a worship/prayer gathering with some of the other leaders of the youth ministry we volunteered with together at the church.  All seemed fairly usual--even Andrew being a little out of it.  Afterwards he walked me to my car as we chatted with another couple.  I recall reminiscing about all the times we had stood by my car in that parking lot talking just as we were with that couple on that night.

After the couple left, I asked Andrew what he wanted to do.  After waffling in his answer for a few minutes, he finally said, "Do you want to go to the beach?"  This question took me aback a bit as it was already 9:30pm and the beach was a good hour away.  Not to mention, I hadn't been home since work.  However, late night trips to the beach had occurred a couple times before and we had really enjoyed the beauty and intimacy of those nights.  So, we planned to meet up at my place in a short time to make our trip.

We arrived at the beach sometime after 11pm.  As we sat by the water, watching the ocean creep up the shore and listening to the musical tones of water on sand, we talked about our day.  Then, Andrew turned and said to me, "Bethany, the reason I brought you down here is because I love you and I want to marry you.  Do you want to marry me?"

As soon as he said "I love you" my breath seemed to go out of me and was barely able to whisper, "I do...and I love you, too."  I had almost forgotten to say "I love you" after biting my tongue with those words for so long.  I was so speechless at that moment and could barely even get those few words out, so as he put his arm around me (not a habit we've gotten into as we are reserving physical affection for marriage), I sat there and just soaked in the moment.

Andrew and I at Summit Church's beach baptism--a year after my own beach baptism and our first time walking together under the stars at the beach.

In the days to follow, it's become more and more a reality that I'm marrying the man of my dreams.  Two years ago, I had arrived in Orlando broken and helpless; feeling like I was alone in the world and forgotten.  I was weak.  I couldn't stand up for myself and I just went with whatever the day brought me.  I gave into whatever I was told by those around me.  As time went on, God showed me more and more in small ways that He was there to fight for me.  He showed me that I was His daughter, a princess, and that He would always protect me.  I was finally beginning to grasp that when the situation came about with my roommates and I began to think, "Again, God?  Really?" when Andrew arrived on his white stallion (okay, it was an old bruised Honda Civic, but who's keeping track) to rescue me from what seemed to be a high tower.  He's continued to show me that he is there for me and not only fights for me but also encourages me to stand strong in my personal battles.  He walks alongside me in the battlefield.

I had often been concerned early on in my relationship with Andrew that I would start to depend on him to fight for me more than God.  As our relationship has developed--and now we're getting married!--I have realized that God gave me Andrew as an example of how He fights for me.  Ephesians 5:21-33 has confirmed this for me in seeing how marriage--the relationship between a man and his wife--is an example of Christ--the relationship between Jesus and His people.

I now know with all my heart that God fights for me.