Not So Pretty

 As I've experienced 3 very distinct communities I'm beginning to reflect on how this journey has changed and molded my heart and mind.

I've realized that my definitions for words like: dirty, comfortable, home, family, trust, and purpose, have drastically transformed.

Through my experience in Africa I've learned just how raw God really is. It doesn't exactly sound like a term of endearment, but I've discovered that true faith is unedited and uncut. It's not the pretty version of Christianity that we sometimes receive at our Sunday service, it's the living-as-the-hands-and-feet-of-Jesus-everyday kind of version. It's the not so pretty version; looking into the ugly to find the beautiful. 

This revelation has awakened me to the exclusive Jesus we sell people, and the characteristics of Jesus that we tuck away to contain the image we created for him. But I no longer want to perpetuate the lies about who Jesus was to fit in  to a comfortable box. His life wasn't only about playing with children and healing lepers (keyword: only). He was a honest, intelligent and bold teacher. He lived raw. He was raw. Isaiah 53:2 states that, "He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him." The world saw nothing special in Jesus. He was just a man. A man who had real and raw emotions, just like we do. He's the one who was so enraged by the people using his house of prayer as a marketplace that he began overturning tables. This is the man that was so deeply moved by the spirit that he wept over the death of Lazarus. The man who was tempted in every possible way, and who had to choose to sit in the quiet of God just to clear his head. Jesus, the son of man, was fully human and fully God. He was perfect as God and as human as man. Jesus is our savior but he is so much more than that. We must love God not because of what he does for us, but for who he actually is. I love him because he is raw just like me. He had to choose God over the world, day in and day out. He dealt with all of the sins I carry and more. He is all loving and giving, but he experiences my pains and sorrows too. He can't be photoshopped into what I want him to be. He is who he is. He reminds me that the world will always see me as inadequate when I'm serving God, but God will see me as perfect.

I've discovered that the idea of Christianity solving my problems is a fallacy. Scripture says that (1 John 2:6) "whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did." That isn't an easy walk. Jesus endured the greatest suffering and rejection this world has known. Life wasn't easy for him, and if we live like him it won't be easy for us. Looking back, living in Lesotho was one of the most difficult experiences I've ever had but it's the closest to Jesus I've ever felt. Every step I took, I took knowing that Jesus walked before me. When people stared or laughed, I felt a small portion of the rejection that he felt. When  people expected things from him because we was God, I felt that when countless people asked for coins or sweets solely because of the color of my skin. When I had small opportunities to pull away from everyone and everything, I felt like Jesus spending time on the mountain with his father. The challenges are so hard, and they appear to be off-putting but The Lord promises that although it won't be easy, it will be worth it. Hebrews 11 summarizes some of Gods most faithful people and the trust they demonstrated before Him.The chapter accounts for the faithful but declares that they did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. the chapter concludes that  -God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

This experience abroad has opened my eyes to my purpose. My daily purpose is to throw myself at the feet of Jesus. It's the only thing worth doing in life.

I've learned that my life is just a story that God will use to reveal himself.

Hebrews 11:13c

Hebrews 11:40

 

The End Times

 Three weeks into Namibia with a month until we will all be home, sends the mind into a panic of sorts. Unconsciously planning what's next in life, sorting out things you've put off thinking of for months. With Rehoboth, Namibia being a watered down western society we are starting to feel the winds of schedule and routine rush against our faces. It's so easy to get swept away with these things. It's so easy to start collecting the pieces of this trip without living in them right now. It's easy to forgot that we committed six months when we are in the home stretch and the countdowns have begun in the fifth month. Our bodies are here but our minds are off making plans with friends and family back home. We are only half alive. Exhausted from the days tasks we claim but it's really a tiredness caused by living in two worlds. We know that this isn't the way God intended us to experience our last month here, so the question becomes how do I commit all of myself to living presently?How can I live each moment and each day with Gods intention instead of my own?

The only way this is possible, is if I give up my control. I let go of the balloon carrying all fears and anxieties about unpausing life in America. I breathe in every moment as if it's my very first and my very last. I choose to look into the eyes of my favorite fourth graders living in block E, (the poorest part of Reboboth) and I tell them I love them. I choose to sing the banana song for the millionth time with everything in me just to see those beautiful smiles on their faces. I choose to find unconventional ways to serve this community even if it means temporary discomfort for myself. 

I begin to discover this 'giving up control' thing isn't all that easy. I make many mistakes, continuously fighting for my life, fighting for circumstances to be solved by my solution and hitting the wall of truth reminding me that only God's solution will work. My plan becomes living unplanned. Every morning the sun rises over me warming me to the idea of a brand new day. A no accident day. A day that was written before I was in existence. This is the day The Lord has made. This is the moment The Lord has made. CHOOSE to rejoice in it. Choose to seek the brilliant face of Creator. Choose to smile in the difficulties, choose to love the things we call mistakes. Because The Lord has promised he will fulfill his purpose in us.

 As this pilgrimage comes to end, I realize that the gospel never does. The stories, and the memories will be fresh and exciting but I'm living in the same Truth forever. On this life journey every day looks different, every day is new, but everyday carries the sweet aroma of a Savior. Everyday reveals the masterpiece of an Artist in love. 

He has shattered the yoke that burdens me.

So why do I worry about the ending of a book that's already written? Why worry about a life sealed with the promise of love and joy? Why worry when He says to me, "Do not fear," as he takes hold of my hand.

"However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all"

Ecclesiastes 11:8

References:

Psalm 139:16

Psalm 118:24

Psalm 138:8

Isaiah 9:4

Isaiah 41:13

My name is Not Enough

I am a witness to my own inadequacy every day. 

That's a scary thought.

But it's the truth. Countless times during the span of 24 hours I give in. I give in to negative thoughts, disbelief, and human need. 

I feel tired, I feel hungry, I feel useless, I feel unsatisified. 

And so I give in.

I witness my lack of use. I witness my being not enough. 

I am not enough. I will never be enough. 

I've heard this quote, "God doesn't call the qualified, he qualifies the called" 

But the thing is, only One was qualified.

One was enough for us never being enough. 

And because of that One, we have a chance.

"He heard my voice" (psalm 116:1) he heard my moans, he listened as I wept, he felt the heaviness of my empty life. "And he answered by setting me free" (psalm 118:5) he answered by breaking the chains of my humanness, he answered by loving me perfectly.

There is nothing remotely good within me but Christ.

Life in the Mountains

   The first ten days in Lesotho were spent living in the mission house of Growing Nations, an organization that teaches Basotho students how to "Farm God's Way" in their own crops using resources that He has provided instead of machinery or other techniques that lead to ruining their fields. After learning the ropes of basic farming and spending time as a team working on projects for Growing Nations, it was time once again to pack up my backpack and head out to spend two and half weeks living with a resident student of Growing Nations in their rural Lesotho village. Living alone with a family who speaks a language called Sesotho; I expected to be challenged. Challenged to live without what I now refer to as luxuries, such as a toilet, a shower and a kitchen. But the things that really pushed me past my comfort zone were the things I didn't expect. Things like being stared at and whispered about no matter where I was, obeying commands to follow without having any idea where I was going or what I would need, and the constant feeling of being an outcast or some form of entertainment. Even simply sitting cross legged was a spectacle. Unfortunately my first week in this mountainous village made my heart a little bitter. I didn't understand Gods purpose placing me there. I didn't understand how to build relationships with people who only spoke to me in a language I didn't understand. To be honest I was ashamed that I was living in a place I imagine is modeled after heaven and feeling so reluctant and frustrated. 

 Because of this frustration I began reading my bible merely to escape this new web I found myself trapped in. As I read, I yearned to read more. A form of entertainment became my lifeline. My heart desired to grow closer to God, but I knew this required me to die to myself, and in that is sacrifice. Sacrificing my complaints and grumblings to attain a thankful heart, sacrificing my control to trust that The Lord would bring good out of my uncomfortable situation, sacrificing my worldly self to walk in the footsteps of Jesus. These sacrifices were hard, but I began picking up on blessings that I didn't see before. Even the rising sun coming up over the mountain was a gift I knew God was giving to me. As He softened my heart I realized that my Sesotho name, Lerato (which means love in English) was not just a name anymore. It was my purpose. My purpose everywhere but specifically here and now. I needed to love the people that don't know how to love. My Heavenly Father let His Presence rain down on me, drenching me in His peace and soaking me in His love. And as I began to love like He does, I began to see through His eyes. This love wasn't easy love, this was painful love. I now looked around and didn't feel disgusted that all of the adults in the village lived in a constant state of drunkenness, I felt the brokenness. That universal brokenness. The brokenness that I've harvested for years that The Gardener has to continue to tend to and get rid of so that He can plant the fullness of life in me. That brokenness that I've witnessed grow like weeds choking out the peace and grace that The Gardener plants in friends and family. It's here, that old brokenness. Basotho men and women live in it, and so they try to fill the empty void with drinks that make them dance, and drugs that make them laugh and I look in their eyes with the eyes of God and I see the desperation, I see the calling for something more. I'm struck again with the truth that ugly lives everywhere, even here, the most beautiful place my eyes have ever seen. Through the ugly, I see the arrow that points up. It always does. The arrow that points back to The One who mends the broken, and finds beauty in the ugly. The One who is everywhere just waiting for you to find Him. And I pray that the Basotho people find Him. And I pray that the Basotho people saw at least a little sliver of Him in me.

The Basotho people believe that everyone is happy in America because they are rich. In America we often soothe ourselves by saying that the poor are happy because they don't live with complications. Both of these are untrue. We all live the empty life, whether we stop at Starbucks for coffee or walk 3 miles for water. We all feel the aches of loneliness and questions of purpose. Instead of feeling guilty for not finishing our plates when there are starving children in Africa, we should feel guilty that we don't take time to thank God for everything He provides. Because when God begins to fill that empty soul of yours, the sin of worry disappears. No more will we worry about our jobs, or our cell phones or the traffic on the way home. No more will we worry about where we will have the money to buy food, or the walk to the tap, or our health. The physical needs are nothing in the light of what the spirit needs.

   So be challenged to no longer pray for things of this world. Begin to pray for the things of the heavenly realm. Pray for salvation for yourself, for your friends, for that man on the bus sitting three rows back, for the homeless woman on the street corner, and for the Basotho people. Pray that they find God instead of food, that they are satisfied in Him, instead of money. Pray that no matter where that person is in life, that the face of God shines on them, and that they are saved in His unfailing love (Psalm 31:16).

"Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful." 

Hebrews 10:22-23

Praise for the Rain

    Every day I wake up with joyful heart, excited to begin the adventure that The Lord has laid out in front of me. It's so easy for me to praise God for the smiles and hugs I receive from the children as they greet me in the morning at the Disability Center. It's so easy to praise God when I'm exposed to such raw faith like Dina's, who created a facility for disabled children to come and learn and play. Who not only believes The Lord will provide but lives her life as a testament to that. It's easy to praise God for a host family who blesses me abundantly through their love and kindness. But something that I'm beginning to question is, am I able to praise God when I don't get what I want? Just last weekend I had a chance to see God use human flaw to expose His glory and faithfulness. During a mall trip, one team member lost her wallet, and after tracing her steps intently we were told that the odds were not in our favor, and as we began to lose all hope, we asked one more shop and thankfully got the wallet back, but God used this story to reveal that our mistakes can be a testament to who He is. We praise God because the crime rate was not in our favor but He chose to work through that. We praise Him because we got what we wanted. But if we didn't get the wallet back, would we praise Him? If the outcome was something we weren't comfortable with, what emotions would we have towards God? It becomes a lot harder to praise Him when he isn't answering our prayers on our time, or in the way we expected. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 says, "Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." This verse isn't something we can work around. We must choose to live in thanksgiving because it's Gods will. For example, lunchtime in the community. Lunchtime has been one of the most tiring parts of my day. We are served massive portions of foods like mealy pap, beans, rice and cabbage. It's not that these meals are awful and I pity the people who eat them, it's just that I've grown up choosing what I want and when I want it. There were times I had to suffer through finishing a portion of broccoli, but with the promise of dessert, it wasn't too hard. Now I find myself in a situation where I'm eating these things that I'm not used to, in portions that I'm not used to. The easy thing for me to do, is to try to get my way, by eating less or by not eating at all. That would be avoiding my own uncomfortableness by making someone else feel uncomfortable for not eating food they prepared for me. But by being in Olivienhoutbosch I've come to realize that this isn't my leftover broccoli that got thrown away without a second thought, this is a meal for a person in need, this is necessity to someone, therefore I must make it a necessity to me. I hate to admit it, but I find it so difficult to thank God for this meal. It's such a personal challenge to genuinely feel gratitude towards something so hard for me to eat. In my life, I thank God for every meal because it's a meal I've chosen, a meal I know I will enjoy. And that happens so many times in so many circumstances where I thank God because of a choice I made or because I got something that I wanted. But this is a true challenge to find gratitude for the nourishment of food, instead of the enjoyment in it. And beyond that, thanking God in situations where I don't get what I want.

   The funny thing though, is that although lunch is the most challenging, it's a time of fellowship in Olivienhoutbosch. A time where my team mates and I conquer our plates and our uncomfortableness. When we work together to finish the meals that have been specially prepared for us. 

   In our lives there will always be circumstances we don't like. When we live for ourselves we will try to change these situations to fit our mold of what's comfortable and what we're capable of. But when we live our lives for The Lord, we begin to realize that circumstances don't matter because He works through all circumstances. Eating pap was no longer as hard when I realized that God has blessed that time with fellowship. He has not only blessed our difficulties, they are a part of His will. Instead of living in my circumstances I'm learning to live in His Presence.

All of Heaven Waits For a Sinner to Come Home

       Sunday night at church I heard a message that caused such a revelation in my heart. No one is too far gone from the grace and goodness of Jesus. Like I said, this message was heard at church but God blessed my heart by letting me see and feel what it means to never be out of God's reach.

Last week I met Lieutenant Steve at the East Harlem Salvation Army who is originally from Kentucky, but moved to New York City because he fell in love with serving the poor in Harlem. He shared with my team a little about his family, explaining that his sister is in training to begin working at the Salvation Army as well. When asked about the rest of his family, he explained with complete confidence that they were "Pre-Christian" because he knows and trusts that God will transform their hearts on His time. No one is too far gone.

      Yesterday I met a man who shared with me a lot about his journey and how he became who he is. He was raised in Ghana in a Hindu home, but to get an education during that time he had to attend a catholic church. He grew up surrounded by two very different and conflicting belief systems. Hinduism being his parents beliefs, not his own, and Christianity being somewhat forced on him. He formed different opinions about both, one providing him with education and basic needs like clothing or food, the other feeling very much like rituals and rules without spiritual connection. As he grew older he fell in love with a woman who begged him to move to New York City with her, so he did, unfortunately the couple separated leaving this man homeless in Harlem. He stayed at a homeless shelter on the very same street as the East Harlem Salvation Army, and one day he felt a deep yearning to attend some sort of church service. When he walked past the Salvation Army he was invited in. He continued to attend service there and also began working in the kitchen as a dishwasher. Within the first month of this new job he began preaching at the Sunday Services. He's been a christian for only three years but has an abundant amount of biblical knowledge and a deep and passionate love for God. No one is too far gone.

      My brother has been an atheist for as long as I can remember. When I began going to church and discovering my faith he tried to challenge me by asking deep, theological questions that I still cannot answer. I've seen in him that deep haunting emptiness that longs to be filled with a sense of purpose, the emptiness that we all feel when we don't know Who we are living for. I've seen his struggle with depression and guilt, always feeling like he's done too much wrong and can't move forward. At times I've even felt like there's no turning back for him. But two weeks ago I received a phone call from my mom that brought tears of joy to my eyes when she explained that my faith-lacking,'too far gone' brother had cried out the name of Jesus. I don't know his heart and I don't know the plans that the Lord has for him but I know that he is not too far gone.

      No one is, or will ever be too far gone. We serve a God who knows our hearts. He knows our pain and emptiness because He came to experience it Himself. He understands our yearning for purpose and He fills our souls with His perfect peace, love and grace. Because in our emptiness we have the opportunity to turn to God and fully receive Him. This is not an altar call, or a sermon, or a salvation prayer. This is not a way of life, religion, or part of a culture. This is not a labelled relationship. Jesus is beyond all of our labels and categories. Jesus is life, the only life. And every breath is a second chance.

**The title of this blog post, and a lot of ideas are based off of Carl Lents' sermon called "Just Hold On, I'm Coming Home"

Thank you for reading and continue to pray for family, friends, and strangers that you may have once labelled "too far gone"

Shattered

Harlem so far...

        It's sort of crazy how the Lord completely shatters expectations you didn't know were there. Specifically, I'm talking about my team, I expected my team to look like the "ideal christians" with their lives neatly sorted, but instead I found us to be a group of people who have a lot of questions and not a lot of answers. We all sort of ended up on this trip, leaving home with hesitations about where we are being led and what's next. We aren't perfect. We know we aren't perfect. But for some reason we felt an undeniable stirring only caused by a God who knows us. He beckons us from different parts of the country, He encourages us to trust His plan and leave behind the plans we were comfortably making for ourselves. He calms our hesitations about leaving fragile family situations and security we have found in our education and career. He unites us with this passion we all have to serve Him. He continues to give us glimpses of who He is in small moments spent with a group of strangers that would only meet on the basis of knowing a God that sees them in their plain, boring, ordinary lives and calls them to an adventure that is carefully planned out by their Guide.*  

     Another shattered expectation was the training we went through the first three days in Harlem. I assumed it would be preparation for our minds, like learning some of the language and linguistics to the cultures we would be living in but I should have expected God to shatter that one too. (The thing with God is you always think you're catching on to what He's doing and you never are. He will always surprise you in big, scary, crazy, beautiful, loving ways. Embrace this.)  Training was about preparing our minds but more importantly about preparing our hearts and spirits. The Lord stretched me with questions about worldview, creation, dignity and brokenness. Questions that ask things that have never occurred to me, like how to serve someone in a way that upholds their dignity, and how worldview affects the relationships we are building. I've never thought about the difference between nature and creation, or how negatively the impoverished would describe themselves. I never saw that handouts destroyed dignity and only create open, expectant hands, or that there are seven types of poverty that all equally lead to a brokenness that only Jesus can heal. I am not going to Africa to change lives. I'm not going to Africa to do. I'm going to Africa to live. I will not put God in that old, familiar box that I used to. I will not search for comfort or ways to feel useful. I will not give until I realize how much I'm receiving. I'm faithful that God will unite my heart to the hearts of the people He will bless me with in Africa, no matter how different our cultures and our lives tell us we are. We serve the same God who sees us, and wants to walk hand in hand with us through everyday.

*The last part of that sentence is stolen from Jesus Calling for January 13 (the day this adventure began! I get it, God)