it's not about me

i've been really captivated by the teachings of sweet mother teresa lately. her love, her gentleness, her sweetness, it inspires my heart.
"i don't think there is anyone who needs God's help and grace as much as i do. sometimes i feel so helpless and weak, i think that is why God uses me.  because i cannot depend on my own strength. i rely on Him 24/7.  if the day had even more hours, i would need His help and grace during those hours as well. all of us must cling to God through prayer"--mother teresa
to quote st. john vianney "shut your eyes, shut your mouth and open your heart." mother teresa added to this by saying "in vocal prayer we speak to God; in mental prayer He speaks to us.  it is then that God pours Himself into us"
lessons learned: when you make up your mind, and profess that your life's work is to be a living vessel of His mercy, love, and His mouthpiece two things happen:
1) God sanctifies you.  this is done with fire (to bring out the impurities).
2) the enemy attacks you.  this is done with fiery things.
the difference: God's sanctification with fire rids you of impurities, so that you become like pure gold, in which He can see His reflection in.  the enemy's fiery things are meant to destroy--rest assured, he will not succeed though.  close your eyes, close your mouth, and open your heart in these times.
my move to africa is a mere 3 months away.  the fire is coming from all sides.  i can only cling to God through the enemy's fiery darts and i can only open myself for God's fire that purifies.  i want to reflect him.
we live such a short life, i have two choices with my life: i can live it for me, about me, to benefit me. or i can open it up to be about Him, others, His Kingdom, and cling to Him.
there are too many tears to wipe, cheeks to kiss, hands to hold, shoulders to hug, ears that need to hear of God's great love, and how that love manifested in Christ.
i desire to take my eyes off of my own suffering, and gaze them upon the hurt of others. i desire to say, walk in, live in: "it's not about me, it's about those my hands can reach", and again, God, in His great mercy and infinite wisdom, brings opportunities for this to be practiced.  He is a faithful, just, and righteous God, and we/i must say, anything to rid me of myself, anything to remind me that it' not about me, but it's all about You. it's all about Jesus. the first two commandments: love God. love others. let God fill you, so that He overflows from you and out onto others.  let His love saturate them.  for this to happen, i must decrease.  i must take my eyes off of my own suffering, off my own hurt.  i must say, the grief i experience, the pain in encounter, those days/nights where my heart absolulte weaps for itself, let me say, "okay Lord, let my heart weap that way for others, not for me, let my spirit ache that way for others, not for itself"  it's not about me.
in the end, and through it all, God will take the enemy's fiery darts and attacks and use them for His glory, for His good, to still accomplish His plan--i'd even say to sanctify us and bring us closer to Him.  whom else do we have to run to? none but Him.
i beg of you, where you're at.  gaze upon others.  be His hands and feet where you're at.  be His living vessel where you are at.
when the darts and fiery things from the enemy come, know this: enemy fire always increases as you get closer to the battle lines.  you are going in the right direction if you feel more and more assaults. run!  run!  the front line.  there are too many people on the other side that need you.  run!
run!!!  it only stings for a little bit.  keep running!!!

if it be Your will

i have countdown app on my ipod, and i've plugged in certain dates of events to come-events which my heart reaches for, as if this reaching will have them to come tomorrow.  one event has exactly 2 weeks, 3 days, 3 hours and 20 minutes: my heart is giddy with excitement at the mere typing of that short time; the next event, my departure for africa is: 4 months, 1 week, 2 days, 7 hours ish...and my heart leaps at this as well.  i think back to last summer, and the turmoil my heart was experiencing at during that time, the ravaging my heart had just been through and was trying desperately to recover from, and i say moreso now: anything of Your will that brings You glory.  i remember at one point last year, sitting in the floor, praying with my roommate, with tears flowing from my eyes, and she said to me, we have to thank God for this.  and i looked at her, tears still streaming.  my lower lip pouting, saying how badly i wanted to, i really did, but i didn't know if i could, at least not right then.  and she reminded me of the story of corrie ten boom and the fleas:
while corrie and other fellow ladies were being held in prison/cell rooms, she would have prayer sessions with them, telling them: "we must thank God, in all things" many of the women moaned at this: "how can we?!"  and she insisted.  one woman replied back, "even for the fleas?!"--as the prison room they were being held in was infested with fleas.  sweet ms. corrie responded back, "yes, even for the fleas."  and she led them in a prayer of thanks for the fleas.  it happens that these fleas were God's protection of them: as the other women in the surrounding prison rooms were being raped nightly by the "guards" ms. corrie and these women were spared this fate, as none of the guards wanted to go in this one room because of all the fleas. 
i examine last summer, and i thank God for that turmoil now.  i examine other valleys i've walked through, and i thank God for those now too.  i say, "anything of Your will for Your glory." 
in the end, when my life is over, it won't matter what possessions i owned, what status in society i was held at, or who to, or even if i was married--all that will matter is being welcomed into His arms, hearing "well done good and faithful servant."  there's a quote by voltaire (not that i really recommend one to read all of his works..) "i want to lie at your feet and die in your arms"--volaire most certainly did not mean this to be regarding his relationship with Christ, but, it perfectly describes mine.  in the end, i want to be in His arms, daily, i want to simply lie at His feet. now and then, nothing else will matter.  i want to see the impoverished, neglected, oppressed, abused, orphaned, welcomed into His arms as well.
last year, when i was in africa with a team from visiting orphans, one of our fellow team members stated so lovingly and pointedly: "all these orphans, here, they live in poverty now, and are the "last", but, they're going to have front row seats at the feet of Jesus in heaven--the last will be first and the first will be last--and we're all going to be in the back"  we all celebrated at this thought.  not much brings me greater joy than to think of these beautiful orphans and widows having front row seats at the feet of Jesus. 
as time gets closer, and my countdown app reads a shorter and shorter time for my africa departure, more and more arrows fly, more stones are thrown, and i hear the footsteps of the enemy growing louder: and i look to this as confirmation, he hates for the Lord's will to be done, and he hates those that carry it out. he can hate me, i will love that he hates me. 
at a conference these past few days, i heard some of my favorite theologians/pastors speaking, one of whom, john piper stated in his message on mission and the will of God, "our bones should boil within us to see the will of God done in all areas of the earth"  this is a beautiful description: my bones boil within me, my heart burns within me. it can't not.
all the wants and desires of my heart, i must lay aside.  all the things of the world, i must lay aside: no receipt of my fleshly wants will i take to heaven to meet my beloved Jesus if i receive them; i will, however, meet those other beautiful souls in His arms, if they hear and receive His word.  His word is far more precious than any of my wants. they must know and feel His love, His mercies, His compassions.

there are time that my heart has grown heavy, and i say, still now, thank you for the fleas. i will embrace it, for Your glory.

time grows closer and i look around, all the possessions i've accumulated, matter so little to me.  i would give anything to replace these things i hold in my hands now with the hands of the lost, the faces of the crying, to be embraced and prayed over. this will come, in 4 months, and my heart leaps with joy once again, typing this.  there is a constant intercession in my spirit, the Holy Spirit stiring within me, that those who have so little here, have such a unspeakable value to Him-and He calls me to embrace them.  i will do this with a glad heart.  they are precious, His blood is precious--and i cry desperately for them to know that, and He has called me to tell them.  my hands reach for them now, and i will embrace them, and His blood will cover them too, and my heart will sing at this.

"i have found the paradox: if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love" --mother teresa

the pearl of africa

uganda is known as "the pearl of africa" and upon visiting it, one can understand how truly descriptive this is for this beautiful country.  i traveled to uganda after spending a week in ethiopia with a team from visiting orphans.  one of the most heart breaking truths of this pearl is this: there are still many children/orphans affected by the lra (lords resistance army).  child soldiers are one of the most gut-wrenching tragedies of our day and the stripping away of their youth and childhood joy continues on in other countries as well.  there have been charities formed to aide in this crisis, including: eXile international, project ak-47, and invisible children.  i would highly recommend becoming acquainted with one of these amazing ministries.
i still laugh as i remember the common occurrence of hearing "mezungu!  mezungu!" being shouted as we walked by and small children pointing and laughing.  if there's ever a place where it makes you laugh to be pointed and laughed (not at, just regarding ;) ), it's here!
we had an opportunity to visit a remote village while in palisa.  this was one of my favorite experiences.  this small village had a tiny little church at it's center, where this community of families came together to worship their Creator, their savior. the charity: mocha club (named because it's only $7 a month to support an african leadership program--the cost of two mochas) has a motto: "i need africa more than africa needs me". and being in this remote village, that becomes so close to heart. one cannot deny the sweetness of community that exist here.  something we in the states miss out on, tragically.
it's somewhat difficult for me to speak out of my heart regarding this trip, this time in uganda, because it is so deep within my heart.  maybe i'll get better at that.
our last day in uganda, we visited return uganda.  a ministry founded by pastor samuel.  you should check out their website. :)
i've known since i've returned from this trip in the summer of 2010, that when i went back in 2011, i would not return to the states.  i didn't know how this looked, i just felt it in my heart.
so, here's where we are.  i am returning to ethiopia and rwanda in august and have an incredible opportunity to stay and be a part of this incredible ministry to the orphans, return uganda, instead of coming back.  i feel as if my heart is already there.  i feel as if my eyes are gazing upon these beautiful children instead of my actual surroundings.  i feel as if the african air is breezing over my skin instead of the chilled tennessee air.  i feel my feet are treading on african soil instead of walking these roads of nashville. my heart is there already, and always has been.  i know that God's created a heart in me to serve the widows and orphans.  nothing brings me greater joy than to be amongst those i went to serve last year.
i'm often told by those that have casual chat with me, "wow, that's so amazing, you're so brave to leave all this behind"; but, to be quite honest, i just can't understand this.  i'd be more brave to stay here and ignore my heart, and the pulling of the Spirit.  i'd be more brave to stay here and fill my life with stuff instead of people. it's not my calling.  it's not my heart.  africa is. orphans are.  "the least of these" are.
so, here i am.  i perhaps may sprinkle a few updates on here as i'm able to pull these deeply passionate thoughts and feelings out of my heart, but, i'll update regularly once i'm over there. :)

a place called korah

on the edge of a city in ethiopia called addis is a community of people who live in the city dump.  this community is known as korah. korah has been said by some to mean "cursed" another interpretation of this word means "baldness or bare."  there are references to korah that associate it with rebellion in the bible as well.  needless to say, a community being called korah wass not intended as a blessing.

many years ago when leprosy was striking fear in the heart of many, claiming limbs and well-being, the government of ethiopia forced a move of all the lepers to this city dump.  leprosy is no longer such an epidemic, but, generations have since been born in this community.  they then have children here, and there are 3rd and 4th generation families living in this actively used city dump. what is striking is the great amount of joy that exudes from the faces of the children here. despite what story the physical environment tells of.

within this community is a hospital and also school rooms.  ministries have formed to serve these beautiful people in hopes that this will begin the freeing of them from such conditions through education. and there are amazing people there right now serving this community.  i recall stepping off our bus the first time we visited korah and the children coming running, smiling, glowing, laughing, giggling, eyes shinning. we would scoop them up in our arms and hug them tight.  they would sit in our laps as we sang songs like "Jesus loves us", and one of my favorites, a song a fellow team member taught them, along the lines of "the church, the church, the church is on fire!" during which, the tiny 10 foot by 10 foot classroom we were in became one large mosh-pit of jumping and celebration.

a heart wrenching example of the love these children have: one would not be shocked to hear that being within the korah community brings one to become somewhat covered in dirt, mud, and....well....so on.....yet still, upon holding one precious girl, a team meber recalls this small girl using her dress to clean the team members hands on after seeing they were dirty from picking her up.  also, after picking up an especially cute and active boy, i had a path of, well, errrr.....a lot of stuff from my arm, down my side, down my leg, and so on. i was too captivated with this little guy's precious heart and smile and joy to care or even notice.  i didn't notice until some of the other equally precious young children gathered around me started trying to clean this grim and whatnot off of me with their hands and shirts as well.  they seemed very concerned that i was dirty (with little notice or care of their own dirt, as if i was any better then them--if truth be known, it is i with my wretched heart who truly "deserves" to live in a dump). i could have cared less about this grim; my only care was hugging, smiling and hand holding.

mother theresa once said "live simply so that others may simply live."  there is so little that we truly need in life.  there is so little in korah, and yet so much joy in the eyes of the children there.  there is an embodiment of community that we know so little of.  what we need, is to be the hands and feet of Jesus.  at life's end, i want to leave this world with as little worldy possessions as possible, but a heart full of love and service.  

goats, famine, and babies

in the city of guangzhou, china (located in the guangdong province), there stands a statue of 5 goats.  legend has it that early in the time this land was inhabited, 5 celestial beings descended in brightly colored robes riding on brightly colored goats, bearing rice and grain.  this was believed to be a blessing, to ensure the people of this land never experienced famine.
i traveled to hong kong in december of 2004 with a group from my college ministry; we then met up with hundreds of other Jesus-loving college students from across the nation.  our goal was this: to spend Christmas in china, telling, showing, living out the love of God to the students we met.  after a brief introduction and preparedness of/in prayer, the hundreds of us then went out in teams of 5-10 to various points of china.  i went with 4 others to guangzhou.  we would be there a little over two weeks, visiting classes of college-aged students studying english.  since china was picking up on the "christmas trend"--or as some store windows there displayed "chrismas"--which is probably more appropriate anyway, we had the perfect opportunity to share the true Christmas story, one of the great love of the one true God, who became man, who lived a sinless life, who died on the cross for our sinful lives, and rose again, so that one day, we may too be raised from the dead and sing praises to Him, whom created the universe and all within it, for all eternity.
their ears and eyes were open, and mouths willing to converse.  what also struck me was how they longed for simple attention.  to have someone talk to them.  show an interest in them.  value them.  befriend them.  one girl in particular, who gave herself the english name "eagle" was especially precious.  one might sense that a mere smile and "hey eagle!  how are you today?" with a back pat and hug was the most attention and care she had been shown, quite possibly, in her life. our last day there, eagle handed each of us a note and a small friendship bracelet (i still have mine, it's blue and white with tiny blue and clear beads on the end strings that tie).  she seemed bashful upon handing me my note, and asked that i not read it in front of her, but wait until i was at least on the plane. i assured her i would wait, and i thanked her for my bracelet and gave her a hug.
what i've neglected to tell of until this point, is what i would deem to be a poor attitude i developed at the end of this trip.  we were all tired, but for a good purpose.  we were exhausted, but thankful for the opportunity to have been able to share the love behind christmas with these students; plant seeds that the next group coming through would water, and yet another harvest. i also failed to mention that somehow, i ended up being the only girl in this group that traveled to guangzhou for a couple of weeks.  i'm a girl's girl.  i like pink and i like to laugh, and i like to gaze at the stars and i like to watch birds and other furry creatures scamper about.  there was a significant laguage barrier, so, my girly communication was greatly limited, and my heart was feeling it (honesty is what we're going for, right?).  the moment i sat in my seat on the plane, i opened my note, and a few seconds later, i was in tears.  my heart seemed to have been torn from my little chest, and my sniffles were rampant.  the dear sweet words of eagle.  "i do not deserve a friend like you. you are so kind and have shown me so much love"...the rest of the note i'll leave private, as some meaningful things are best that way. how could this be? me? kind? shown so much love?  i examined over and over the last few days.  i pleaded within my mind, my heart for there to be some way to turn time back for just two days, so push through that exhaustion and expend every last bit of energy in love.  this was the point i told myself that i will never again let my tiredness or weariness hold back every ounce of love i have.
(i also think i had seen some of myself in eagle (but that's for a later post in how my mess became my message)).
many of the evenings were spent in quite time, prayer, encouraging one another--as we were so young and in such a spiritually taxing environment. i would find myself after spending my quiet time, hopping on the bus that had the numbers i recognized would take me to the center of town.  (in hind sight, this was probably not the best idea, since i didn't speak a word of the language, all the characters looked the same to me, and i was a young 21 year old girl in the midst of rural china).  nevertheless, this became my nightly ritual.  --you see, there is a tragically large homeless population of women and children in china.  with the one child policy, baby girls are often abandoned and grow up on the streets.  they then prostitute themselves to make money to eat, and become pregnant.  well, since they were abandoned as young girls themselves, they are not registered with the government and unable to go to the hospital to have their children (not to mention, as previously stated, they became pregnant as the result of prostitution--which carried much shame with it).  often times, these women would be on the street with 2,3, or even 4 children.  they slept next to trashcans, under newspapers, under stairwells. i found myself, a heart on fire, relentless, to make the difference in one, two, three, etc. women's day the best way i could--with a smile, a hug and food.  every night, i'd buy 8-10 meals worth of food, and hand it out to the homeless women i'd see as i prayer walked.  my heart still breaks, 7 years later to recall how they threw their hands at my feet and nodded their heads, hugging my legs after receiving this "feast".  i was determined to make that night a night of a feasts for them.  i knew i couldn't save all the women and children neglected, of china, but i could do it for some of them that night, and that was good enough.
here's what i learned.  push through. love.  exhort.  two days of pushing through for us, is just that, two days...but, it can make a lifetime of difference to someone else.  to think about the extra love i could have shown precious eagle, breaks my heart.  the dear just thought what i showed her was a kindness she had not known before, but i know that the last few days, it was a kindness that could have been more if i pushed through the tiredness. i've taken that and grown with it.  it's not my love to let be tired.  the love within my heart is a spring from the source of Him who gives me life, and it must over flow at all times. it's a love that spills onto others, and saturates them.  it's our way of being His hands and feet. we live out the gospel.
a quote attribute to st. francis: "preach the gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words"

it began here

i remember clearly as we flew into kabul, afghanistan, seeing the bomb planes on the side of the runways and overturned tanks scattered about the dusty roadways leading up to the small one room airport. if one were naive enough and shut off from the current events of the day, the landscape of scattered planes torn into pieces and  scrap metal from tanks would lead you to think you were flying in the day after a tornado hit.  but this was not the case.  these images that are painted in my mind now were the direct result of years of war, and most recently, a retaliation of american forces in that land for the tragedy of 9/11 and deliverance, or an attempt to, of the people.

i, and three other people, had come there though with one purpose, to love and restore.  we were there the first summer that women were allowed to attend school in newly intergrated classrooms.  we spent a few days in kabul, familiarizing ourselves with the "right people", being briefed on what was expected of us, and what was expected of us to not do, along with other vital keys to our best chance of survival.  we then traveled to mazar-i-sharif where we would spend the next two weeks.  the classrooms we were in were filled with students of the later teen years: girls still very meek and soft spoken, and the males, testing limits of the "authority" of a white female teacher.  love knows no offense.  

one day i was in a classroom with one of the young girls on my team, and at one point, i turned around

and noticed a group of  5 men standing in my doorway.  they stood there for a period of time, long grey beards, traditional afghan dress known as "Kamiz Shalwar".  perfect love cast out fear. my dear team member and i continued our discussion with our students, and lost thought in our minds of the men "observing our classroom". 

our first night in mazar-i-sharif, we were in the guest house which would be our home for two weeks, gathered in the dining area for our evening meal.  we had finished blessing the food and begun to pass around plates of rice and glasses of nectar to drink.  in the  midst of our jovial christian fellowship in the midst of one of the most oppressed lands, ruled by a fundamental islamic group, gun shots sounded outside our window.  this became within seconds the sounds of a full fledged firefight.  the christian man who lived here yelled for us to lay down on the floor (and since we had been sitting on the floor to eat, this didn't take much time).  while on the floor, we listened as screams, arguments we could not understand, and more shots rang out.  sirens then sounded and alarms from the building next to us went off.  we happened to be caught in the crossfire of a battle in the street to storm the building next to us.  we were on "lock down" in this guesthouse/compound for the next two days.  there were locals, who had become very loyal to this guesthouse, being employed as guards there for the last 10 years, who would go out each morning to observe and calculate the risks for us that day to venture out.  the third day he told us the climate had calmed much and we could return to our classrooms. 

we spent the next few days teaching, loving, knowing no offense.  there are no remarkable stories to tell of new brothers and sisters coming into the kingdom, no prayers of redemption offered up, and no miraculous healings.  we were merely faithful to plant seeds.  seeds that others will come behind us and do as they are called to do with.  i am faithful to pray for these people, those i encountered, those i did not encounter, that a harvest time will come, and they will be amongst the wheat gathered.  i pray that those seeds fell on good soil, and will grow, produce fruit, and that fruit will produce more seeds and a beautiful cycle will continue. 

it began here.  my eyes were opened here.  my heart was softened here.  my heart knew no offense here.  my faith grew here, planting seeds, trusting in God's sovereignty that others come behind us and harvest.  

i returned to the states after these several weeks, and i remember in clarity standing in the boston airport, somewhat confused, and definitely no where near reacclimated.  still in my hijab, i wandered aimlessly, trying to process the last few weeks.  by this time, the shock of returning had began to settle enough for me to realize i was hungry.  being in no short supply of places to eat i found myself in front of a burger king in the middle of this boston airport. i became utterly paralyzed with grief as i realized the vast difference of the need of the land i was just in for several weeks and the abundance of the land i just returned to.  how could i spend on one meal what would feed a family for weeks there?  how could i nosh on a ready made hamburger and salted fries when those i had grown so close to the past few weeks were at that same moment, still under such oppression and need. i didn't.  i found my way to my american airlines waiting area, and curled up on a stretch of 3 unused seats, took advantage of the plethora of clothing i was still in, and disappeared into my ball of fabric.  sleep befailed me and my heart raced.  tears as streams flowed from my eyes. the short 21 years of my life (at that point) had not produced a person that could understand how it was that i was able to just leave such oppression and darkness and return to this level of comfort and security. it seemed unjust.  my heart burned for those i met, loved and left behind.  

it began there.  it began in the tears of a 21 year old, wrapped in a ball of fabric, in the middle of the boston airport, curled into the stretch of 3 chairs, it began with the thought, the heart, the passion, the fire: NOW THAT I HAVE SEEN, I AM RESPONSIBLE. 

this is the day...

they lyrics to that song ring through my head at all times now.  when i was in myanmar (during january and february of 2011) with an amazing group of people, that was the song we sang every morning to begin our day of service, and the song we sang everyday to end the day of service. the last day, it was all i could do to get through this song.  tears pillowed under my eyes, and my voice could not seem to escape my mouth to lift these words up.  there's an indescribable bond that forms amongst people who serve on missions together, and a tie your spirit forms to that land.  i left myanmar more blessed than i am sure i blessed others there.  the Lord seems to do that, out of His great love for us, in our service to others, He magnifies this joy within us, and love springs out of our heart as an uncontainable geyser.

i spent two weeks last summer in africa (ethiopia and uganda), and my heart was stolen.  ever since, my feet have desired to tread upon african soil again, and my heart has called out to the precious orphans and people of that land.  i've known in my heart that is where i am meant to be, to serve, to love, to be His hands and feet, but did not know when this was to be realized.  that time has come.  the Lord has brought a blessed opportunity to me to return to africa to love on those in ethiopia and rwanda, and then even more blessed am i to be able to stay in uganda when the team i am serving with returns after the two weeks there. my heart leaps with an joy i cannot describe at this, and i am swept up in a whirlwind of emotions of love, joy, and eagerness of spirit to serve and love. with this love of Christ in my heart, this love that fills me, that has captured me, that has called my soul His own, how can that not spill out onto others? how can that not spill out into what my life is?  it must.  His love fills me up so, it fills me and spills out, and i desire nothing more than to be His hands and feet that hug, hold, love and encourage some of the 43 million orphans of africa.

i am trusting the Lord to provide for all my needs in this.  He is my rock, my provider, my healer, my comforter, He is the one that sends me.  i will be updating this as time leads to my departure for africa, and then maintaining it while i am there.  please join me in prayer. prayer for health, provision, and just a blessing that many would feel a love of Christ that we know.

i am sending out my support letters for this journey, and hope that you not only feel called to offer what financial support is possible, but also, even more importantly, support of prayer.  i feel the prayers of all those when i am serving in missions, and love the assurance this gives me.  His spirit dwells amongst us, and what more can i ask for? :)

it's easy to develop the mindset of "you can't change the world". but we can change somebody's world.  and that's good enough.  through sickness, disease, lacking, desperation, death, oppression, war, and trails and turmoil, love marches on.  love fights, love supports, love is there to hold a hand, support a head, kiss a cheek, and rock to sleep.  love is there to say, we are in the Maker's hand, and His love has bought us an eternal life that cannot be taken.  His love has rescued us, and His love conquers all fear, death, war and disease. that's what my heart knows: war and pain and hunger and sickness may come, but it will go, and love marches on.

i will update as regularly as i can, and hope you find encouragement in this as well, and maybe even are moved to live out james 1:27 with me:
"pure and undefiled religion in the sigh of our God is this, to visit widows and orphans in their distress"

thank you. :)