The birth of a believer

Blessed.  Yep.  That’s how I feel this very moment.  Sitting alongside the Zambezi River in Mwandi, Zambia listening to the bugs and the birds sing the evening into existence.  The air is dry, but so very cool and the breeze teases.  Pulling into the village this evening was so surreal.  How did we get here?  What are we doing here?  Dear Heavenly Father, are you sure you we’re the ones you meant to call?  All of these questions enter in and out of my mind while taking in the view of this amazing people.  The hustle and bustle of villagers on the road, the smiles and waves by the children as we pass through, all quiets the questions of why.  I am humbled and honored at the faith of those who invested in this trip for us, financially and prayerfully and reluctantly, for some.  We left this totally up to God to show us how and he certainly provided a way.  I was delightfully curious to see how all hands play a part in one person’s life, like a kid staring through the glass at the bakery.  It’s a wonderful sight watching the hands and feet of God prepare you for your trip across the world to a place some have never seen and never will see.  Faith.

We started out four days ago stepping onto the plane, trusting our instincts and praying we packed correctly.  Turns out it doesn’t matter how you pack, it matters that you lay down your nets and just follow him.  Jesus doesn’t care if your tshirt matches your pants.  Ha!  I was dressed for a two day travel adventure…yoga pants, duh.  The flights were amazing and heart pumpingly close together.  Kept us on our toes and away from scary expensive airport food.  We had not one minute to spare on our connecting flights.  The 15+ hour flight sandwiched in the middle was, well, long.  My back and shoulders argued with me for 48 hours about that airplane seat.  We arrived at our final destination in Livingstone, get this, on the day the brand new airport was being commissioned into service!  Dancers and drummers performing on the tarmac.  Airport personnel handing out free hats.  Mimosas awaiting us on the inside while we waited for our visas to be processed.  The place was beautiful!  Not at all what Doug had previewed for us.  He warned us of the small space and the heat of the building while waiting hours for our visa.  He was pleasantly surprised, although there was still only one line, one clerk processing visas…. They finally opened up another lane like Target at Christmas!  It was all good we didn’t mind standing after all of that time in our plane seats!  Although, David and his plane neighbor had quite a lovely discussion about Jesus.  I love to hear my husband get so passionate about his relationship with Christ.  It’s a beautiful thing.  I met a sweet lady on our last flight who traveled all the way from San Francisco to JFK to Johannesburg to Livingstone!  Good gracious.

Like the plane ride and the airport in Livingstone, we were also given an account of what to expect for our first few days accommodations.  I had been on their website and looked it over as well, but we had also heard from many of our friends that have done this trip before.  “A hostel” atmosphere.  “Nice, clean, modest”.  It was like when someone asks, “is she pretty?” and the answer is, “she’s nice and she’s very smart.”  Oh boy, what to expect.  Let me give you a bit of information at this point.  The UNWTO, United Nations WTO is meeting in Livingstone starting on Saturday for five days.  Dignitaries (other than us, lol) will be traveling here from the far corners of the world.  Everything in Livingstone was freshly painted and newly planted and looked fabulous, hence the commissioning of the airport.  So, we go to Fawlty Towers and check into our room.  As we put the key in and open the door I was taken aback.  What?  This can’t be our room?!  It was amazing.  Beautiful!  Newly remodeled “deluxe” rooms.  Why?  Oh heavens, we were in heaven.  We were certainly feeling like we were suffering for Jesus, NOT.  

We traveled to Victoria Falls the next day and ended the day with a sunset cruise on the Zambezi.  What a day.

Some of you at this point are thinking, “wait, what are you doing?  I thought this was a mission trip?”  I get that.  I’ve said that in the past hearing stories myself.  Seeing how God prepared the way for David and I to come and then heaped blessing upon blessing onto our trip at every corner has been so wonderful and has made our hearts so grateful watching it unfold right before our eyes.  Doug and Abby and David and I have never spent ANY uninterrupted time together, EVER.  To be heading out into the village was scary for me and exciting, but getting to know our team leader and his wife was crucial for the success of this mission.  I had to know them.  This was that time.  I thank God for how he even orchestrated that into fruition as we waited for our ride to Mwandi for four and a half hours.  TIA – This Is Africa.  No one is in a hurry here.  I could learn from that.  We should all linger in the blessings of God every once in a blue moon and prepare our hearts for the hard stuff.

Since the planning of this trip, I have had a heart of finality linger on my thoughts.  We, David and I, made sure we crossed our t’s and dotted our I’s with our families.  Making sure they knew how to function in the house, with the bills and if something should happen that would prevent our return or snatch our last breath, everyone would know what we wished for.  I know it sounds a bit morbid, but a harsh reality when you travel and leave your precious loved ones behind.  I say that to say this, I know that death hovers, but it’s not a feeling of a physical death.  It’s a sure feeling that I will die to self on this trip.  That the person that traveled here will not be returning.  It will be a different me.  Hopefully one that surrenders herself, finally and fully, to Christ’s urge of her spirit.  One that listens to the Holy Spirit more and walks in the steps ordered for her.  One that puts self aside and looks fully into the face of the Heavenly Father knowing that He is where my helps come from.  Somewhere in this trip I hope to write the obit for her and in the same breath tell you about this new life born returning home to love you more gracefully than you’ve ever known before.

1 Corinthians 13:12

¹² For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

Genuine

Here I am again, complaining about another holiday, so you know you so want to stay on this post and read.....

Every year I struggle with Christmas.  I smile at my children and remind them that it's not about the receiving and not about the money to buy gifts and yadda, yadda, yadda.  I do believe that the Savior, Jesus Christ was born in a manger in Bethlehem surrounded by barnyard friends and his parents.  I believe that he came to set us all free from our sinning behavior and bring us to a hope of eternal life.  I believe in Christmas.  So, why do I place this sense of false guilt on myself every December that I cannot provide this over-the-top gift giving experience to my kids?  Not only that, but I have two boys who's birthdays are the 20th and 21st of December (I know, I should've done the math, but I had other things on my mind).  So getting the birthday gifts to remember and not be overshadowed by the other child's birthday and the Savior's birthday is quite the challenge.  Of course, Jesus' birth is a huge part of this season and it surrounds our hearts no matter the day, but you know what I mean.  I just want my kids to know how special they are on their birthdays.  Ok, ok, back to Christmas.....

Why do I get my mind caught up in the comparison, commericialism of it all?  I know the Holy Spirit dwells within me through the birth, life, death and resurrection of the Savior.  Why can't I be content?  Why do I let myself become envious and jealous of those Instagram pictures of glorious Christmas trees stacked high with gifts underneath reaching the middle bows of the tree?  The facebook posts of my friends, acquaintences and their friends telling how they're done shopping, in the middle of shopping, looking for the perfect gift or stressing over "getting it all done" make me take my mind off of the real truth of the season and put me on edge about my lack of performing as a typical, American, loving, provisional mother/spouse.  I would love to shower my peeps with the 12 Days of Christmas or the desire of their hearts this season but I just can't seem to care about purchasing gifts.  I'm a lame giver, I know this.   On one hand, I don't want to buy and on the other hand, I want to go crazy and empty store shelves of meaningless plastics that I will inevitably have to pick up or dust off or wash in the near future.

Then my mind is saturated in the visions of Mary giving birth in the stable.  I've given birth 5 times now and had I been told that my only option was to labor in the stable, I would've crossed my legs.... hard.  But seriously, she gave birth to the one she knew was coming to save us all by humbling herself in a barn.  Not much is retold in the scriptures about the actual birth.  Shocking.  A man wrote those versions, because we all know as moms that our birth stories are riveting and everyone wants to hear it!!  But as one who has traveled the road of childbirth a few times, I can't help but wonder about Mary.  Her mind was on this child, Jesus.  God brought him into this world in the most meager of circumstances.  I want to forget about gifts.  I want to forgo the shopping for mounds of things under the tree.  I want my children and hubby to know that they are so special to me this Christmas!  I want to stay there, mentally, in the stable knowing that Christ came from a place of service and giving from the start and I don't want to forget the season of Christmas.

I want a genuine Christmas.

Luke 1:46-55

 And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord

 

    and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

 

for he has been mindful

    of the humble state of his servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed,

 

    for the Mighty One has done great things for me—

    holy is his name.

 

His mercy extends to those who fear him,

    from generation to generation.

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

    he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones

    but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things

    but has sent the rich away empty.

He has helped his servant Israel,

    remembering to be merciful

 

to Abraham and his descendants forever,

    just as he promised our ancestors.”

Luke2:6-7

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

John 1:14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Makes no sense

Ok, I'm going to say it.  Hang on to your witch hats.  Here goes.  I. Hate. Abhor. Halloween.  There.  It's out there now and I feel so much better!  I'm sure relieved to know one of my deep, dark secrets.  Not sure how I got to this point in my life though.  It's been a slow fade to the "other side" of the Halloween spectrum.

I love autumn!  Love the cool fall weather and the color of the leaves and sweaters.  But I cannot stand that Halloween marches in and stomps on my autumn loving mood. I went trick-or-treating as a kid.  I dressed up.  I anticipated what I was going to be the next year on Nov. 1.  I remember those days.  Then sometime around the age of 11 or 12 I just grew out of it and now as an adult I cringe at the thought of Halloween coming up around the corner.  I love candy!  What is wrong with me?  I think God has slowly come into my heart over the years and just taken out those things that are frivolous and meaningless and that I showed no glory to Him while being involved in it.  

My dog had firecrackers lit underneath her during a Halloween prank when I was young and every Halloween, July 4th, firecracker worthy party or bad thunderstorm after that was a nightmare for her.  She died running away from home during a lightning storm.  Tragic.  But that's about how I feel about this morbid holiday.  I just want to run.  I close my door, turn off my light and eat candy in the dark of my own little abode.

Why is it such a loved holiday?  Why is it economically right behind Christmas in sales?  I mean, on it's heels, right behind?  Why do people spend so much money on Halloween?  Maybe that's it for me.  Sometimes during the year it's couch searching time for milk money and seeing how people "budget" for their Halloween expenses makes me nauseous.  And what lesson is in it for our children.  I mean, really.  Have you been in one of those pop-up Halloween stores?  Throughout most of that place I have to shield my daughter's eyes so that she doesn't see that stuff.  Not the scary stuff, the other "adult costumes".  What in the world are people doing on Halloween anyway?!  My daughter begged to go trick-or-treating when we moved into an actual neighborhood.  I made her brothers take her.  I refused to buy a costume so she wore her army outfit her uncle had bought for her for three years in a row.  Then it stopped.  She found no fun in it anymore.  "Can't we just go buy candy at the store Mom?  Then I don't have to go out in the cold."  Smart girl.  Don't judge me.  I don't feel bad about handing down my apathetic attitude about Halloween to her.  I just don't.

Look, I'm weird.  I know this about myself.  I am destined to be a lonely old lady with no friends and family because of my beliefs.  Now, I love me some fall festivals or All Saints Day parties where you play fun games and eat things made with apple and pumpkin and cinnamon!  So, this year, it's no heartbreak for me that I am leaving town on Halloween and won't have to make sure my light is off on the porch to signal the "I don't have any candy to give you" to the local kids looking to score big in the neighborhood.

So, I don't know why I felt the need to write this post.  Because what's really on my heart today is how Jesus prayed for us before he was arrested and crucified!  I know, completely random.  The two don't even relate to each other conceptually!  But, really, did you know that Jesus did that?  And he took the time out of his last day of freedom to pray for us.  It always humbles me to think about it.  It makes me cry reading the scriptures.  How he cried and prayed and tears of blood fell from his eyes and the pores of his skin.  What would you be doing in the last days of your life if you knew you were about to die?  I'd want to not sleep.  I'd want to spend it with those I love memorizing every feature and telling them how much I love them.  I am amazed that Christ prayed for me before I even believed in Him, before I was born, before I was in the womb, before, before, before.  Wow. 

It's the whole chapter of John 17 and I encourage you to read it, like, now.  But here's just the last verse to give you a little taste:

²⁵ “Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me.²⁶ I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.”

I pray for you today.  I pray that you do take time to read about Christ's sacrifice of His life for yours.  I pray that you realize how he sacrificed his last minutes to pray for you.  I also pray that I will spend more of my time praying and thinking about those things that are important to God instead of wasting my time blogging about things I don't like.......gotta go!

Mountains and mole hills

I just had to record this in cyber infamy today that I actually got up by myself with no mental torture and placed running shoes on my feet and went running and.... wait for it..... I actually enjoyed it.  This. Is. Huge.  I never like to run.  I moan and complain and whine and talk ugly to my insides until I am done usually.  But not today.

I'd like to say I've come a long way in this area and that it'll change from here on out, but I know that is not the case.  I'm glad I went, don't get me wrong.  I am very excited that I wasn't miserable and that I actually ran the entire workout without cheating or stopping at all.  But I am not kidding myself here.

What usually happens in my life is that those things that I once made mountains out of mole hills become mole hills again when I am facing a much bigger mountain on the horizon.  I ran the mountain today, but not the one I was supposed to run.  I picked the one that seemed not so daunting and much more doable.  My faults are many in this area.  My mountain is bigger and bigger everyday because I don't face it and go to the top and conquer it.  I just choose to take the trail that leads me up the mole hill, that once used to be my colossal mountain.  It's kind of like when you're a kid and you're riding your bike and you pop a wheely and your tire comes off the ground maybe an inch but you think it you suddenly reached Evil Knievil status!  It seems much bigger than it really is but you keep doing it because you think you're awesome.  Ok, strange analogy...

I don't want to hike that mountain that I have raised in my life.  I don't want to approach it.  I don't even like looking at it from a distance in reverent beauty.  It's ugly.  It has no trees.  It's rocky and full of loose rocks.  It can't be tamed.  It can't be overtaken without pain and suffering on my part.  I will need to sacrifice things in my life that I don't want to sacrifice.  I will have to face the things that scare me the most, relationships, finances and service, just to mention a few.  When I look at this gargantuan piece of my journey it makes me not like myself at all.  It casts a shadow that ironically lights up those things in my personality that are unattractive and harsh and disgusting.

(Wow, this is such an uplifting post, right?  I'm not even PMSing!!!  Hahaha...)

I know I have to face this part of myself that is not living up to giving God the glory.  I know I must surrender to grace and mercy and start dishing it out in my life.  When I was running this morning and listening to my music a song came on that had lyrics so simple, so amazingly beautiful and just what I needed.  There is a line that says, "give your all to Jesus, there is freedom".  Not give your all, like giving your best effort, but giving your all.  Your good, your great, your best but also your ugly, your nasty, your disgusting, your failures, your mountains that you've so meticulously erected in your path.  I need to stop trying to place Jesus back on the cross for my selfishness.  I need to stop spending my time moving the dirt around in my life to build up another mountain and focus on what God has for me to do in my life.  I know it's not this.

So, Gracious and Merciful Savior, first of all, thank you for today!  Thank you for my successful running attempt.  Thank your for my life in this world where you have already claimed it as your territory!  I worship you this morning!  Come into my life today and wipe out the cobwebs in those dark recesses of my soul that need to be used for you.  Help me to tear down the mole hills in my life and throw away my shovel that I carry around to build the mountains with.  Lord, help me to give it all to you today.  You are my rock.  You are my redeemer.  I love you.  Heavenly Father forgive me for my disgusting behavior.  Forgive me for my ugliness in my heart.  Help me to cleanse away those things in my life that break your heart.  Help me to see others and myself the way you see us.  Amen.

I thank God for music in my life.  I hope you enjoy this one as much as I did this morning!!

When you must "shut the front door"

I laugh at the commercial where the family is trying the new product, that currently escapes my memory as to what it is, and the mother exclaims in joy, "shut the front door" and I think she's going to actually say something else each time.  Goes to show you just what kind of sick individual I am deep inside.....  but really, do you know when to actually "shut the ........."?  I've had my lesson in listening this week and I think I'm done speaking.... forever.

I have started a new venture called Mooresville Mission School.  It follows the Live School curriculum for learning.  I am so excited about this program.  I think.  Yes, I am.  Maybe.  We had our introductory class last night and it was pretty rocking awesome and quite scary at the same time.  One of our main facilitators is from  Mwandi, Zambia and lives there in the village and teaches Live School to people who travel miles on foot from the bush to a tent city to lodge there for months together with the other students to learn more about God's will in their life.  They sleep, eat, study and fellowship together for months on end while completing this curriculum.  Anyway, enough back story.... Our facilitator, Percy, talked about how this is less of a spiritual school and more a school about us, who we are, what our true character is and whether it lines itself up with our character in God's eyes and His will.  Lots of talk about diving in deep into ourselves and looking at what makes us tick.  Ok, am I really sure that I want to do this?  No.  I'm not sure, but am definitely forging ahead with great excitement, if that makes any sense what so ever.

One of our overviews of the upcoming lessons is about being able to take criticism from others and how to react correctly to the criticism.  Because if we are all children of God and brothers and sisters in Christ and we are speaking truth in a loving way, then how should we react to these people that we love so much?  Should we give it right back in a snarly, sarcastic and overly defensive manner?  Well, that's pretty much how I react at least on the inside and play over and over in my head on how good it would sound.  Then I blurt out something resembling, "oh yea, well you're a doo-doo head!" but in a more adult manner.  Until today that is.  I had a conversation with someone I love dearly who called me on somethings that I had said.  Really God?  Must I do the lesson early?  How should I react?  What do I want to say?  What should I say?  Was it true?  Should I defend myself?  Should I drag others into it?  All of these questions were swirling through my head as I am listening to this person.  Love.  Love.  Love.  Love.  That's the sticky sweet syrup that was pouring over my soul as I listened.  I hate syrup.  I don't like sticky, its why I detest peeling an orange and eating it.  But all I could find myself saying was, "I'm sorry.  I am so sorry.  I am sorry I hurt you.  I am sorry."  I'm sure it was boring and sounded more like begging for forgiveness, but I am truly sorry for my behavior.  But now.  Now I just wish I could crawl in a hole and stay there forever.

I know the image I had in my head last night went more like this when we were discussing the lesson.  I would sit in a circle while people threw criticism at my like helium balloons that just playfully bounced off of me and up and away the hard feelings went and we all hugged and smiled and said we loved each other and God looked down with pleasure and delight.  BOLOGNA!!!  The Oscar Meyer version!  The lesson isn't just in the act of taking it in and understanding our reaction to it, but also the carnage in the hours, days, months ahead that will constantly need to be dealt with and loved on and mended.  If I would've just thought about it at the moment and realized that I really didn't want to go down that path, maybe I could've just shut my mouth.  Maybe.

Not sure how things will turn out.  Only God knows how truly sorry I am in my heart.  Only God knows what is to come in the future.  Only God.  I must live in the moment of complete submission to His plan and do it quietly.  Listening to the Holy Spirit.

An analogy from our class last night brought amazing images to my mind.  Percy talked about how we will be stretched by the knowledge we will learn and how we will be stretched mentally when we are growing and how in doing so it will finally give the Holy Spirit room enough to dwell within us.  I can just see the Holy Spirit stretch arms out wide (yes I know there aren't arms, but go with me) and doing a verbal stretch and sigh as He makes himself comfortable in me. I want to make room for the Holy Spirit.  I want him to live in the mansion that God creates within me where he can stretch and be comfortable instead of rent controlled apartment with no indoor plumbing.

I will leave you with these tidbits from the class.  Did you know that when the song writer wrote the words for Spirit of the Living God that the lyrics were actually like the following and not watered down like they are for the hymn books:

Spirit of the living God, 
Fall afresh on me.
Spirit of the living God, 
Fall afresh on me.
Break me, melt me, 
Mold me, fill me, 
Spirit of the living God, 
Fall afresh on me.

If breaking is what I need to make room God, then start breaking....

And this:

Exodus 20:4-6

⁴ “You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. ⁵ You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, ⁶ but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.

Are there areas where you need to be broken in order to grow in your spirit?  Are there areas you don't want to deal with your character?

Calming Chaos

I am making lunch. Tearing up my kitchen and making a mess. Girls are getting hamburgers but since I ran this morning, yes that's right I did it, then I decided something a bit more good for me was in store. That, plus I don't eat meat. So, I opted for stuffed acorn squash! When I sit at the banquet table in heaven I bet they have this! I love these but I make such a mess in the kitchen when I prepare them. Then, of course, those little scamps are trashing the rest of the house by making sure all of the toys are out by the time I'm done! Well worth the trade I guess. As I wait for my squash to bake, Little Dude #1 has decided to try climbing on the couch! I just want to watch clean house in denial! Why do these little creatures deny me? I've been going since 6 a.m. I have permission to babble randomness. You're welcome!

Holy Spirit