the love of it all

luke 14:
but, when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.  although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous. 

it started two years ago with my dear friend caroline's idea to make her birthday an occasion to have a christmas party for the homeless, the lonely.  her and another friend, nichole were showered with donations and blessings of over 100 coats, yummy food, decorations etc for us to use there.  it was a wonderful experience, opening up a building our church owns to invite in those who had nowhere to go and no one to be with during this time of the year.
the next year, i took the reigns and my "don't take no for an answer" drive, and was blessed by how the surrounding business community agreed to be involved.  60 pizzas, two large honey baked hams, lots and lots of starbucks coffee, and sweet treats from local bakeries were donated.  several of us sacrificed or "christmas budget" and instead bought gloves and small books to give as presents.
this year, marks the third year that my friends and i are hosting a christmas party for those who have no where to go and no one to be with, and show them the love of Christ, the value they have.

our church doesn't have a choir, instead we have worship teams that alternate weekends, but, by golly, the unofficial choir is performing, our pastor is speaking, and God is good.

in all of my travels, all the places i have been, and, i'm going to go ahead and speak for caroline too, in all her travels, her time on the mercy ship, one thing remains: full belly, or empty belly, let us also focus on filling the heart.  let us also take the hand, hug the shoulder, and pat the back.  let us offer a smile, a sincere greeting, wherever we are, not just in this season.  many people that come, just want to be listed to, just want eye contact, for someone to devote attention to them when they talk--even if they aren't talking about "anything".

last year, we had approximately 150 men, women, and children show up.  we say, bring more!  there are more than 150 with no home and no family; God will provide.
i read somewhere that americans will spend about 450 billion---billion...B....this year at christmas.  that's a lot of stuff.  this sounds terribly cliched, but, let us give this christmas away.
there are many tears, rolling down chapped, cold cheeks, there are many cold hands, many tattered sweaters and falling-apart jackets.  there are many tired feet that walk up and down the streets everyday looking for a place of warmth.
i think of Jesus, and i think of His question, "what is easier to say, "get up and walk" or "your sins are forgiven"--He had the power to do both, He did both.  He has also equipped us to do blessings in His name, so, i ask, what is easier, to open up a building for a few hours or to open up your heart to these wonderful people in need.  they know when someone is paying "lip-service" to them, and they know when someone truly cares.  let us care, let us love.  let us be His hands and feet.

this past sunday was my first sunday in a church since i have been back. it was difficult.  the climate control, the walls, the nice clothing, etc.  my heart ached.  i left several times, and prayed. prayed. prayed. after the service was over, i was talking to a friend and a small girl came running up to me, cute little puffed hair with little clips in it, clunky boots, big brown eyes, soft brown skin, and she wrapped her arms around me, and buried her head just below my chest, where it reached.  and i hugged her back, holding one shoulder and embracing her with my other arm.  she looked up, smiled and walked away.  and i smiled, and thanked God for that message.

there is always someone in need of a sweet smile, a pat on the back, a listening ear, kind words, a hug....sometimes it's us that needs the hug.  and it's always us who are asked to give it, at all times.

if you'd like to help, hands-on, with the Luke 14 christmas party, then, it's saturday december 17th at belmont in the fellowship hall from 1-4. if you'd like to help, and can't be there in person, we are always taking donations, in any form: monetary (in person, or paypal to the right ----->), baked goods, treats, etc.

"safeguarding the rights of others is the most beautiful beginning and end of a human being"--khalil gibran

“to love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. if you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. but in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. it will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. to love is to be vulnerable.” --c.s. lewis 


and, to quote the signature of the email of a lovely family i know: 
"the will know us by our love" 


let's go. be. love.  :)  

the beauty of it all

"you are altogether beautiful my darling, and there is no blemish in you" --song of solomon 4:7

there is this place in all women (though, through trails, pain, hurts and scars, maybe a bit more hidden in some than others) that longs to hear those words. 

most of us look at ourselves through human eyes.  eyes that are themselves scarred. defiled, blemished.

i cannot get her out of my mind.  her question, which i have now referenced several times, "are you going to die?"  her sickly and frail body. her sadness.  her fear.  her loneliness.  the young child she would leave behind.  her story, which was the same as many women's story: grew up without a father, hungry, lonely.  (thought she) found comfort, happiness in the arms of a man there. he was (HIV) positive.  he infected her, and then left her, and the unborn child, to move on to the next woman.  this was/is a pattern. i ask why.  she continue to have relationships with other men, after being positive, why she would have a relationship with a man she knew was positive.  the answer i got "they (women) don't want to die alone."  if her daddy had just stayed and held her, if he was just there to tell her she was beautiful, to laugh when she laughed, to dance with her, she would have known she was beautiful.  she would have known that she had a much greater value than any man here could (falsely) give her.  with her one question of "are you going to die" she became a part of me.  a mark on my heart.  an impression in my skin.

the shouts of glee: "mzungu!!!"  pierce my ears and heart.  the dirty, sticky hands that slip into mine--that slipped into mine.  the dirty clothes, mine and theirs.  i could tell each one of them how incredible and loved they are, everyday, all day long.  i can plead with my tone for their hearts to believe it and receive it.

full bellies, or empty bellies, all hearts are the same.  they each long to hear, to know of it's beauty.  all eyes are the same, they all want to stare in the eyes of their lover, or Lover of their souls and know they are beheld with a heart, His heart.  our skin aches to be touched.  either by one here, or by the One who hung upon a tree.

i wish so that we could break from our preoccupation with the mirror, and stare into the eyes of the One who created us, the One who does whisper, "You are altogether beautiful my darling, there is no spot in you." that we could give our hearts to others with no expectation of anything return, and know that when He fills our heart, that it can stand up under the weight of any crushing blow. that when we speak words of love to others, inspired by Him, that if they are not returned by them, they are certainly returned by Him.  that when we look upon one we love dearly, and their eyes turn from us, that His remain upon us, gazing with a burning passion, that moves Him to receive the curse meant for us.  that when we reach out to others, only to have our hands slapped away, His reach down and grasp them in His own.
that al the time we are longing to hear certain words from others, feel things from others, touch from others, He is offering those to us, with greater affect than we can imagine, if we would just rest in the truth that it is from Him that which is all we need, and nothing else compares.

i want so badly for her, whom is now etched in my heart, seared into my soul, who asked "are you going to die". i want her to know and feel the joy that is waiting for her, the love that will never leave her, the hands that were pierced just to hold her.  i want her to feel those.  i want to see her be received into the arms of Jesus, and for all her tears to be wiped away, for her sickness to be made well, and her loneliness to be cast aside as she gazes upon Him, and all else is forgotten.

abandoned by some, loved by others, adored by One

many brothers and sisters

"rejoice ye barren woman, break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor, for the children of the desolate one will be greater than of the children of her who is married"--isaiah 54:1

the joy of the Lord is our freedom

abandoned, yet full of love; blind but able to see her Father before her,  rarely held, but continually feeling the hands of God

"but those who hope in the Lord, will renew their strength. they will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" --isaiah 40:31 

rescue is coming

“to love at all is to be vulnerable. love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. if you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. but in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. it will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. to love is to be vulnerable.” --c.s. lewis

joy!

i have nothing to bring to the table. and that makes His grace all the more sweeter.
i have no impressive words or speeches to deliver, and that makes His words all the more clear.
i have no beauty in and of myself, and that lets His shine through all the more.
i have nothing to offer, and by Him, everything to give.

i've read, by way of several sources, that is 6%-7% of professing christians would adopt, there would be no more orphans in the world.
there are approximately 148 million orphans in the world.

james 1:27 is pretty clear: "religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this:to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world"


"visit" means this: 
"to go to for the purpose of official inspection or examination; or, to come to in order to comfort or aid"




"visit" does not mean "slum tourism"--you can read a great article about that here.




the joy of life is this: to surrender it for the love of Christ.  as john piper says, "God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him."  satisfaction is in loving, serving, sharing the Word, His love, His story.  to see His love, nailed to a cross.  to see our love, visiting them:

here's the thing, Jesus calls us to love Him.  He doesn't give us a comfortable life because He loves us more than children in a 3rd world country, He gives us a life-long oppportunity to be His hands and feet.  our status and bank account are less about how much He loves us, and more about what He has called us to do, and How much He loves His lost, hungry sheep all over the world. 


i know that i want desperately for these children to know they are loved. 
i know that there is no greater thing in life than to love, to love without limits, limits imposed upon us by our own hurts, scars, wounds, fears...
consider paul, a pharisee, converted, wounded, attacked, hated.  the one who once hated, was now being hated and life threatened because of his outrageous love. AN OUTRAGEOUS LOVE!  the key to that is: outrage.  out of outrage, that we should feel from the mass of orphans, the hunger, the sickness, the prostitution desperate women find themselves in, we should let a love burn in us, that cannot be contained, that cannot be held back. we must do something.  also, to relate back to paul, when we choose to follow Him, i mean, really, really, truly, abandon all, and follow Him, we're going to face attack.  that's why we're told again, by paul, to consider it pure joy.  the trails, the pain, they refine us, they shape our hearts, to a more beautiful heart that shouts His name, that shines His glory!  we share in His suffering! and to suffer, not only for Him, but for His children, that is an incredible love, an incredible joy!


suffer for those hurting, and hide your pain behind Jesus; bleed for those hurting, and hide your scars with layers of clothing; reject food and feel hunger for those who cannot escape it and hide your diminishing frame in purple robes and gowns; live modestly for those that are dying less than modestly; this is love: to carry one another's burdens, and consider it pure joy that your reward is not here, not measurable, the reward is simply fulfilling the gospel. who are we if we do not love? what is love without action? nothing.


--i have a lot of emotions to comb through, these will become more coherent again soon! :) 

30th birthday party--everyone, everywhere loves pizza!

so, i finally am uploading pictures from the 30th birthday party to end all parties, p-diddy/puffy daddy/puff the magic dragon/whatever-your-name-is-now...your white parties got nothing on my pizza party with these awesome kids!

lame.

kinda-pretty awesome, i admit. 

most awesomest, fabulous, pimpest, exclusive, a-list, notable, incredible party! (note the sign in the back: "oh, wow, they had pizza hut in uganda?!"--um, no. it actually says "pizza hot" same font though-sure 'nuff.  pizza with meat is pizza with meat, pizza hut or pizza hot, it was awesome! :) 

thank you all who made this awesome birthday party with my favorite 15 possible!  they had so much fun. for many, this was their first time going into town, seeing anything but dirt roads, for all, it was their first time eating in a restaurant, for all, it was a treat to have meat, on a day other than christmas. thank you, thank you, thank you!  you were such a blessing to them!

the feast! (there was a 2nd table too) 

"trying" to maintain some order.  seems orderly now...but they were just pretending for the camera! 

 

yes, yes that is indeed a mischievous smile. 

 posha trying to throw up the deuces :)

 

israel photobomb

playing at the main shopping center--a trip here alone was a treat for them!








and finally, my way of saying thank you again to you all:
an awesome picture of a squirrel photobomb:

it's the gift that keeps on giving :)

i will be posting more pictures and videos later.  i thought you all could only handle so much excitement, so, i'm rationing. :)

..and also what paul and henry were talking about--and clive staples too.

i sat down and looked around the room, and the words of : henry david thoreau came to mind:

"the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation" 

they looked solemn, a veil of sadness having overcome their faces.  i looked closely and i saw empty faces and empty eyes.  i wanted so badly to go up to each one, and take them by the shoulder and shake them, hug them, do something! and tell them there is an incredible love out there, there is an indescribable joy, that is waiting for them.  i want to plead with them to want it, i want them to know that they are missing it! 

these thoughts came as i sat waiting to board the plane that was the beginning of my journey back to the states.  i only can refer to these places now as what they are: "the states" and "africa"....because the truth is, i can't say "home" anymore...people ask me in the airport, "are you headed back home?" i can only smile and respond by saying, "i'm headed back to the states".  i really don't feel like i have a home anymore.  there's this thing in my heart. this, this, this desperation, for the Lord.  i now weap when i read paul's words: 

for to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. if I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. but to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. convinced of this, i know that i will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith, so that in me you may have ample cause to glory in Christ Jesus, because of my coming to you again. -philippians 1:21-26

i feel that same thing so deeply.  i believe that's why that thought struck me when i sat there and saw a room full of solemn, sad, lonely, empty faces. i dare not insinuate that my face is always shining so brightly with joy itself, i pray for that to be true, but it is not, there are times when i feel that surely the longing in my heart is made manifest on my face, i believe that those times when the lamentations of my heart are so loud, they drown out all other voice and sound, that it veils my face as well--i say this to say that i am not perfect, i do not have all the answers--well, i have the answer--Jesus.

i believe that we all are desperate for something, and what we are desperate for, i believe, is an incredible tell of our heart.  i want that longing on other's faces that i see to be for more intimacy with God, more, more...just more with Him!  that would bring me joy--if the desperation was for Him, more of Him. but, i know it is not always so with those i see, and even myself.  

i also believe that c.s. lewis said it best when he wrote: "if i find myself in a desire in which nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probably explanation is that i was meant for another"

(---side note: i am currenlty in the london-heathrow airport, staying an 8 hour layover, and the sweetest couple just walked in front of me...there's a huge "christmas tree" type structure, with lights and color, and garland, etc. the woman has walked in front to have her picture taken in front of it---why is this so cute and sweet? they're about 80 in my estimation. traveling together, finding delight in the simple such as taking a picture in front of a christmas tree in an airpot.  he is now showing her the picture he took of her for approval, she sweetly nodded her head, smiled, and took his arm, and they have walked away; thank you Lord for that Love between them, thank you Lord that she still takes his arm, and they still find joy in the simple!) 

....and back on track! ...

i find myself looking at the others here in the london-heathrow airport the same way.  praying for them, thinking about their lives, their original design, their calling---what it would look like if they answered it...what mine would look like too--if i pursued it 100%, truly saying, "it's not about me! it's all about Jesus".  i find myself over and over and over meditating on this, "be desperate for His presence--all my longings, desires, hopes--to be only about Him--Whom i am designed for"


i think about the drastic changes in lifestyles i am experiencing all within a 24 hour period.  i think again about what i am headed back too, and know it doesn't feel like "home".  i can't think of any physical place that feels like "home" but only a spiritual place, a place where i solely rest in Him, and His will, His design, what breaks His heart: the place i am designed for. 


i think about my quiet desperation.  the quietness is in words only, because i know it surely screams loudly on my face, when i am not near Him, when i am not passionately pursuing Him, when my flesh and my own heart take over...when i choose, even for brief moments, the old heart, that was wounded, and not the new heart that has been restored, redeemed, and set apart. the wounded heart drives the quiet desperation, that veils the face, that muffles the joy, that hold the new self back behind the old self. 
i think about my heart's laments---a lot, and i give them to Him.  i give those sick babies to Him, i give those malnourished bloated bellies to Him, i give those mothers that ask you if you can take their child/their baby back to the states with you to Him, i give the young teenage girls giving themselves to undeserving guys to Him, and in that, i also have to give myself to Him, wholly, completely, totally-to Him, because there is a desperation in me too--that i can only direct toward Him.


i give these to Him:

what do you do when every sight around you screams: "you can never do enough! children will continue to die of starvation, because they don't have clean water, access to medicine..."

at these times, i again think about the words of paul: if i give my body over to be burned and have not loved, it profits nothing."  when i think about what paul said, i also think about what st. augustine said: "charity is NO substitute for justice withheld

love visits. love fights for the good of others.

love is patient. love is kind. it is not jealous, love does not boast, it is not prideful, it keeps no record of wrongs....

love says, "it's not about me"--and gives it all to Him.

what peter and solomon were talking about

“do not let your adorning be the external--the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear, but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious”--1 peter 3:3-4

i was always one who had somewhat “excessive energy” and pleaded with God to grow me in that quiet and gentle spirit peter wrote about. but, it never really came; at least not in my own self evaluation. now i sit here, approximately 4 days before i head back to the states, and the meaning of “quite and gentle spirit” has drastically changed. a friend, once trying to encourage me said “it doesn’t say quiet mouth!” :)  

so, i sit here, about to leave my african residence of 3+ months and feel compelled in my spirit, my heart, to interpret it this way: a quiet trust, that no matter what circumstance, situation, trials, that God’s hand is upon it.  better is trial and fiery circumstance with God’s hand upon it than prosperous times with His hand far away. it’s the trust that quietens the spirit. it’s the unwavering devotion, despite circumstance, that brings gentleness. the past 3+ months were not at all what i had envisioned, what i thought they would look like, feel like. God had different plans, and His are far greater.  i have learned much more, i know, than if it had been as i planned it. 

as i prepared to come here, the months leading up to this, i began really accepting the temporariness of life, and more recently, the passing vapor that it really is, in the scheme of the universe, of all eternity. but, over the past few months, through a ugly bought with malaria, the very real possibility i was going to lose my right lower arm due to a puff adder (viper) bite, and having my only retreat, only confidence, only refuge of conversation be with the Lord, it became all the more solidified that “it doesn’t matter”.  i remember, the night my arm was bad, bad, bad, bad: hand swollen almost like a boxing glove, forearm swollen, all red, red, red, and beginning to turn blueish/blackish around the bite--and that was spreading, feeling so much pain, it seemed as if every bone in my hand was broken, praying, praying, praying for relief, but acknowledging in the most sincere peace, that if He wants to take it (my lower arm), that i was okay with that, i knew i would get it back one day anyway. and i was peaceful about it. i even kind of laughed at all the times i said i wished i was ambidextrous. i was at peace, keeping my lower right arm or not, it didn’t matter--in the whole picture of life, creation, it didn’t matter.  the years i dwell on this earth, are but passing moments compared to eternity. i also think about all the women i see here. sick, single, dying, children soon to be orphans. and i think about the frivolous worries i had before. there are so many things i want to say to the Lord when i stand before Him, well, there were, but none of them were ever “why did You...” or “why didn’t You...” because it doesn’t matter.  death is but the means in which we can finally be united in His perfect Kingdom, and living this life with both arms, children, family, “nice” things, comfort, etc really doesn’t matter then, it all becomes vapor too. i think about these women, their fear, the one that asked me if i was going to die, and my answer of “absolutely” wanting to be sympathetic to her, but also offer counsel in a way that showed her, told her, that death is “absent with the body is present with the Lord”--that there is no fear in death! (there is a previous post about this encounter...not sure which one it is...think it’s the one about the home visits :) ).  by the same measure of wanting her to know that there is no fear in death, we must also realize that there is no fear in our living--a life that does not look like what we thought and/or wanted. i believe that is a big difference between them and us (us=americans), they fear dying, we fear living a life that is not like what we wanted or planned or hoped for. 

i think about those who are so important in my life, the feeding into each other’s lives, and how much joy it brings me to see them receive blessings. how i’d rather see them blessed tremendously than be blessed myself.  how i’d rather see them brought peace even if it means my turmoil, hurt or pain. there is far greater joy and privilege for me to see them in such joy, receiving blessings, than for me to receive any direct blessings myself.  my joy is in seeing them blessed and with peace.  the suffering here, that is evident when i have done home visits, further only drives home that nothing really matters, but what happens after we draw our final breath. what we do for the Kingdom, for lost and/or suffering souls, that is what matters.  our legacy, our story is not about what filled our houses, and what those houses looked like, or if we had a wedding band and children, etc. it only matters how we reached out, how we fought for those whose names were/are not written in the same book as ours.  it only matters how we served, sacrificed, and trusted. 

i think about what peace and rest mean: complete trust in Him.  i think about how that surely brings so much beauty that peter, and even solomon wrote of--the countenance of calm rest and trust, that offers more beauty than any size, shape face, nose, eyes, skin tone, etc. 

i think about what we fill ourselves with, how we handle trials, turmoil, pain, hurt, etc. and i think--none of that really matters. i think about what real need is, what real pain is, what real fear is, and i’ve seen it: here. i think of the more we try to fill our lives with things and statuses that do not matter, the more we fill ourselves with temporal things, that our facade of joy rest on--what happens when they are gone?  we must let our joy rest only on Him, our peace be only in Him. if our joy and peace rest on anything else, they are shakable, and will crumble at the slightest jolt. to fill ourselves with only a trust in Him, a love of and for Him and His will, that will surely fill us with the quietest, sweetest trust, and how truly beautiful is that?!  i see beautiful women here--far more beautiful than i’ve seen before.  through sickness, death, abandonment, poverty, they do have a peace.  the ones with that peace, that quiet trust, surely outshine us all who have no want.  

“for a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted”--amy carmichael

  

choose your heart

i’ve debated in my mind rather or not i should wrote this post, i am airing on the side of “do write and post”; just know that i am not uncovering anyone with any ill intent, but, more speaking to the state of humanity, and the long affects of an abandonment mentality, and given a direct prayer request for these and the 147 million other orphans in the world. 

i believe i have referenced in previous post the connection made between how we view our earthly father and how we view our Heavenly Father. if our earthly father is absent, abandons us, we will most likely have a distant view of our Heavenly Father, as One who is not there, One who does easily and readily leave us, despite His promise found throughout the pentatudes (first five books of the bible) of “I will never fail or forsake/abandon you.” if our earthly father was abusive, harsh, we will view our Heavenly Father as abusive, harsh, impossible to “please”.  

trails and traumatic events tend to stay with us much longer than necessary.  we live our present lives, often, as if the past still has control over us, as if the past is still a present danger, when 95% of the time, it is not. it is one of the schemes of the enemy to keep us from walking in the joy and freedom and grace made available to us through Jesus.  i’ve done it.  i’ve carried scars with me in what is supposed to be a freely healed heart. arghhhh, i hate talking about myself, i do.  there are few people that i will be bare with.  i will talk with almost anyone about theology, philosophy, etc, but myself, few. so, i’m going to painfully break that routine of not, and bare, because i am about to share other’s burdens/hurts too.  my fear: abandonment. it can bring me to tremble at the thought of it. having a close relationship/friendship/trust with someone, and then, they’re gone. i feel foolish, exposed, unsafe, and vulnerable--i hate it.  my fear of abandonment interferes with me from trusting and forming relationships a lot.  it goes back to my childhood--a long time ago...i know i am safe from things that happened, that hurt, that wounds in my heart, but, the enemy still wants me to believe that i am susceptable to those hurts again, that it’s going to be done to me all over again, and he attempts to magnify the hurt that it will bring--thus, (attempting to) steal(ing) my healed heart, and having me believe i still have the wounded heart.  it’s not true. at all.  my heart is beautifully redeemed and healed. that doesn’t mean that those things will never happen to me again, they have, and they will again, but, it means that this healed and redeemed heart receives it a different way.  it no longer has to receive it in a way that says it shapes and defines who i am.  it can now receive it in a way that says, “wow, that still hurts, but, what does God say about me?: He says “I will never fail or forsake/abandon you”. and i cling to that. my identity and safety no longer come from fellow man, but from the Lord, and that’s my freedom.  that’s my strength to face those fears, abandonment, in the face, receive it, acknowledge it hurts, then bring it to the Lord and He speaks truth over it.  it has taken a loooong time to get here. but i am here. keeping my gaze upon the Lord, desiring to never avert my eyes from Him and His truth over me.   :up until hitting "publish post" i debated rather or not i should strike all that personal information, but, i say now, "it's not about me" if someone else can be encouraged through it, than to God be the glory, if it helps relay the coming children's story and prayer request for them, than, the fear i feel in sharing is all worth it, to stir up hearts of prayer for them. :)   
****edit**** i also very much realize that much what we perceive now is just that, perception, lies, not true.  i realize that what i may perceive as abandonment now, is possibly not that at all.  it's about looking at the truth in things, and not through stained eyes or a wounded heart.  often times, we miss it, and make something be "proof" of our fear when in fact, it is not at all, --we have just accustomed ourselves to thinking something is hurtful or an attack when in fact, it is not at all. --so, the title should actually be, "choose your heart and eyes"--because we must not only change our hearts, but our eyes and mind. :)  <3  

i see this same struggle in my children here though.  the ones i work with daily.  they have had hard lives.  they have been in places where they were not provided for, given up, abandoned, etc. but that is no longer the case, the truth--they are cared for, loved, provided for where they’re at now.  some have experienced  years of having to con, steal, etc. to provide for themselves, protect themselves.  though they do not have to anymore, they still do.  it’s fear based. they are safe now. fed now. loved now. provided for now. belong now. etc. but, they still live in the past, with the heart that had to be hard, rough, and shrewd just to survive. they know in the forefront of their minds they do not have to worry about hunger, thirst, loneliness, but, their hearts are still attacked, they  as children still are, believing they still have to resort to old ways of conning and stealing to make it, to be provided for. caretakers’ rooms are entered and personal items gone through, taken, and items go missing, as if that is the only option for them to be fed, provided for, etc. this is not true, at all, but satan still has a grip on them. they still walk with their old hurt, scarred, jaded heart, instead of the healed, new, light heart that Jesus has promised them. “My yoke is easy and burden light”.   i remember thinking: all they  had to do is ask!  no need to steal, con, etc...just ask me!!! i care, i will help!  just ask!  don’t steal, con, etc! just ask!  i know they know that i, and the other adults care about and love them, but, the enemy’s grip it is tight!  then i look at my life, the lives of other people i see and also remember from the states, and i think to myself, we are no different. we may not steal of con, per se, but, how many of us walk, believing who Jesus was, what He did, how that changes us, but still walk with our old wounded hearts, letting those OLD, in the past wounds and scars shape us now, how we relate now.  the answer: many of us. i have. i have, until these past few weeks, utterly feared abandonment, until i came to a place where i had no one anyway, and came to see that Jesus is all i need. that doesn’t mean it still won’t hurt, but it does mean that when it does happen, i can receive it differently.  it’s like here, they may not get meat or vegetables everyday, but they will be fed. it doesn’t mean they won’t be disciplined, but when it happens it is done out of love. i pray that they will allow their hearts to believe this, that they will choose their new, healed, redeemed heart, over they past wounded one. they have a place now!  they are loved! they have no need to fear! but, they do. i continue to pray that they will chose their new heart, and lay the old habits of stealing and conning learned by their wounded hearts aside. when you think of how to pray for the hungry, the orphaned, the abandoned, please remember to not only pray for their provision, but also for their hearts. that they will choose new hearts, and no longer live in fear that resides mightily in their old hearts.  pray that they will believe in their new hearts, and that freedom will grow stronger and stronger. 

i would also encourage you in this, examine your heart, the heart that Christ lives in, do you still let the past wounds, transgressions shape you and have some aspect of control over your life now?  don’t!!!!!  live in your new heart, the heart that has been healed, wiped clean, the heart that is beautifully dwelled in by Christ. choose your heart, the old broken wounded one, or the new, healed, beautiful one that says, “hurts may still come, but, it will not shape my identity or control me!”  let Him shape and define you, not other mortal, sinful man. :)    walk in your freedom, and healing, and pray that these children all around the world can too. 

“a Jesus who never wept could never wipe away my tears”--charles spurgeon

"therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. the old has passed away; behold, the new has come!" 2 corinthians 5:17 

barefoot

i ran across a blog titled “the barefoot gospel” and it really made me think heavily about life back in the states, upon my return. i’m pretty blessed to go to an incredible church, that serves and welcomes the homeless community into it’s doors, but, others, i know, are not so blessed to be part of such a spiritual family.  i think about life here, now. the dirt roads i walk, the tent church we meet in.  the encocos (chickens--the luganda word is just waaaaaaay more fun to say!) that run around the tent of our meetings, the cows i pass on my walks there, the half-naked children i pass that always greet me with a “hi auntie carmen!” and then run up and grab my hands, and i think, surely this is far more a picture of the kingdom than the fine clothing and jewelry we are used to adoring ourselves with, than the late model vehicles we drive. what really really matters? what do we give account for?  what are we working and striving toward?  do we strive as much to reach the lost, the burdened, the weak and weary as we do other things that pleasure us.  do we strive, work, run with diligence this race marked out for us, to bring as many long side of us as we can?  

"therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart"--hebrews 12:1-3

 what we work the hardest for, that is where our heart lies.  what have we made the gospel?  are we living our lives, that it reflects how we reach “the least of these”. the least are not necessarily the poor, they are also broken, sick, the odd ones, the outcast, the eccentric ones.  they are the ones outside of our comfort zone. do we dine with the ones others raise an eyebrow at, and greet the ones that go unnoticed, or worse, ignored. do we go far enough outside of our comfort zone to bring them to Him?  if we are reaching them, who is?  we are ALL called to reach them, in some way.  it can be a simple greeting, or an invitation to a bible study, or an invitation to dine with you and your comfort zone friends after church.  it’s so easy.  my sister once said, after witnessing a family member’s tantrum “it’s so much easier to just love people” that’s actually when it hit me, it really struck my heart, just do it, just love.  make up your mind that is what you are going to do, be: love. just be it: love. let Him be love in you.

we cannot, simply cannot sit by idly while others perish still broken and lost.  

“if sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our dead bodies. and if they perish, let them perish with our arms wrapped about their knees, imploring them to stay. if Hell must be filled, let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go unwarned and unprayed for.” --charles spurgeon

:update: 

snake-pocalypse

well, what i first thought was a spider bite--lots of spiders here! (48 hours ago), turns out is more likely the bite from an adder snake. they’re bad dudes. really, google “adder snake, africa” you’re better off meeting mike tyson in a dark alley than encountering one of them.

anyway, it went from a small bite/puncture wound, apparently inappropriately blamed on the most vilest of all creatures-a spider, to a mere 18ish hours later my hand swelling to the size of a small child’s boxing glove, turned red as well, and proceeded to extend the swelling and redness to my wrist and forearm.  the medication originally prescribed when it was but half my hand swelled (day after bite) did nothing, and that night, i cried from the pain--the first time physical pain has brought tears to my eyes in a long time. it went from feeling like a nail was driven through my hand to every bone in my hand being broken.  the redness in the hand also developed a blue-ish undertone to it, and thus, the swelling also proceeded to the size of the aforementioned children’s boxing glove. unrecognizable as a hand almost. the mere act of trying to bend my hand made me feel like it was going to split open.  i went back to the doctor the next day (2 days post bite--today), and he was a bit surprised too. the puncture wound itself was not the source of concern, but the venom/poison/reaction spread to my whole and and forearm.  he gave me an anti-inflammatory there and had me stay an hour, holding my entire hand/arm upright for an hour to see if it reduced in swelling. it did not. further confirming this british national who has received honors from the royal family, to state it was the bite/venom of an adder snake.  i’m actually quite lucky--google it, seriously. anyhow, since i leave for the states on the 2nd, i was asking him what do i do if it keeps getting worse, since already in the past 48 hours it went from a small blister to my whole hand swelling 5 times it’s size, turning blue-ish red, and my forearm swelling/discoloring too, he looked at me for a minute and said amputation to prevent it from spreading more. not sure if it was his british humor, when i said “nah, you’re joking” he just looked at me.  i do remember looking at my hand at one point, when it resembled more of a boxing glove, reddish/blue in color, feeling as if all the bones were breaking,, and thinking: You can have my hand, You’ll give it back to me one day.  and He would.  one day.  either way, it’s not good if it was to get worse, it was already that bad at 48 hours, i’d hate to see it at 96 hours...since at this point too my hand had lost feeling.  i emailed a few people and relayed these latest developments, deploying my prayer warrior team, and, within an hour, my hand had decreased in, to about 1/3 what it was.  it’s still swollen--but at least somewhat recognizable as a hand now! and no longer blue-ish in color as well!  though i am returning to the states, with a pretty maimed hand, at least i’m returning with both, and i don’t have to learn to write with my left hand after all! :)  as far as how maimed my hand will be, i’ll know more within the next few days.